Torn
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Harvey turns up at Donna's door but is met by Thomas instead and not realizing his feelings, Donna loses herself amidst the pressure to keep tensions at the firm from boiling over. *Warnings inside*
1. Chapter 1

**Torn**

**Summary:** Harvey turns up at Donna's door but is met by Thomas instead and not realizing his feelings, Donna loses herself amidst the pressure to keep tensions at the firm from boiling over.

**Warnings:** Nothing too graphic but there are a few parts that could potentially be triggering; an implied eating disorder, mentions of depression... pretty much just a lot of angst in general.

**An:** Oh boy! I started writing this weeks ago as somewhere to put my frustration over not enough Darvey scenes. I really wanted to write an AU that takes Donna's influence out of S9 and the effect it would have on everyone else. I hope I've done the characters justice, not taken things too far out of the realms of possibility.

* * *

_There's nothing left, I used to cry... my conversation has run dry_

_That's what's going on. Nothing's fine, I'm torn. _

* * *

**I.**

The call goes straight to voicemail, Rachel's cheery message tugging at something inside Donna, leaving her deflated and disheartened to try again.

A chill raises goosebumps along her skin, the flickering fire almost out, but she lets it die down distracted by thoughts of the petite brunette. She misses her desperately but things haven't been the same since Robert's disbarment. There's a tension underlying their calls, a contrast to the smiling happy voice on Rachel's answering service, and she reaches for the stem of her wine glass- swirling the deep red liquid with a sigh.

Too many words and not enough spring into her mind to justify it. She knows Rachel isn't angry. There's been no outright judgment but the woman doesn't have to admit she's disappointed for Donna to hear it. Robert got caught up in something that wasn't his fault; a direct consequence of a decision _she'd_ made by putting herself above the firm. If anything that's probably why the brunette has been so accepting, understanding it was what she needed to do but her recent break-up with Thomas has exacerbated everything that's been left unsaid between them.

Everything except Rachel's short and curt advice the last time they spoke; decide what she wants and move on or people are going to keep getting hurt. There was no malice to the words just a tiredness that had resonated deep within Donna's bones and the truth has been wrapped around her guilt residing there ever since.

She swallows hard, unable to dislodge the coil of regret tightening her chest. She made a mistake and people did get hurt. Samantha lost her mentor, the only person in this word the blonde has ever been able to count on. A good man who took a fall to right his own wrong doings or at least those are the whispers she's heard. Nobody has given her the full story and she hasn't clarity won't change what happen.

It won't make Louis Managing Partner again and it's not going to rewind time and give Harvey back the faith he lost. She broke them, and the glass in her hand takes on a new weight and she forces down a too large gulp letting the alcohol unknot what feels like barbed wire twisting inside her.

They didn't speak for three days after his hearing and she can only assume he was pissed because she didn't go, the last remnants of trust unravelling between them- but she _couldn't_. She'd tried, gotten herself ready that morning and then Thomas had shown up probing about their relationship. Why? Because in spite of having nearly cost Harvey everything, he was still ready to do anything to protect her. Always willing to sacrifice but never fighting, doing all the right things but never saying the words.

She couldn't face that again, her heart already choked with doubt and beating out of sync at the genuine concern in Thomas's gaze. His feelings were real, _solid, _and in that moment she would've given anything to cut Harvey out. Even if it had meant bleeding to death on the floor of her apartment. She'd craved simple, uncomplicated, an escape from the turmoil and so she'd let Thomas go alone, more determined than ever to lean on him no matter what the outcome.

The resolve lasted less time than it took for Louis to get demoted.

She could barely look at Thomas in the days after, the reminder of her mistakes pocketed in every worried glance he directed her way.

_Eat something._

_Breathe_.

_Rest_.

In the meantime why not just hand Faye a packet of matches, stand back and watch the whole thing burn.

Those weren't her exact words to Thomas but the sentiment had been the same, their subsequent breakup another thing to add to her long list of recent failures. The only thing she's managed to not screw up is becoming Faye's new lackey- her play to keep the representative of the board happy and take the heat off everybody else. It's been tiring, her days rarely ending before ten at night but she keeps the complaint to herself. Who would she tell; Alex, Katrina? They both have enough on their plate's trying to keep the peace, a role that should be hers- and she swallows another top up of wine, the shame and embarrassment washing away with the rise of tipsyness.

Her confidence has taken a knock, landing her on the sidelines but even if she wanted to she doesn't have the energy to fight it. She's exhausted and Thomas' concerns play back through her head as her stomach growls in protest of another liquid dinner. She drowns out the rumble with more alcohol and like some kind of clairvoyantcy shit going on... her phone lights up, Thomas' name flashing across the screen. She let's it go to voicemail and should probably just delete the message but a rush of vulnerability urges the device up to her ear.

_It's the wine_, she tells herself, his low melodic words instantly calming until they dip with the same worry that led to her pushing him away.

She knows why he's calling.

Their ill-timed run in at Marco's coffee house the other morning hadn't been her finest moment. She'd been up passed midnight the evening prior, pulling records for Faye, and the encounter had been forced and awkward, her order forgotten as she'd left him standing there. And yet part of her is almost tempted to call him back, her judgment slipping as she leans into the cushions replaying the invite to lunch with a sigh.

She could go but where would that lead, another argument, getting together again?

She doesn't want either of those things.

Doesn't want to be the reason he keeps getting hurt and then it's Rachel's words that take over, swimming through her head again.

_Decide what she wants and move on._

It shouldn't be this hard and the fact it is sends her thumbs scrambling across the keypad, composing a message to tell him she's fine but it would be better if they didn't see each other again. Hitting send she feels a strange sense of relief wash over her and she quickly blocks his number deleting it from her contacts list.

Maybe this _is_ what she wants, to be left alone- no longer tied to the needs of everybody else. It's sure as hell better than Louis snapping at her every two minutes or Harvey going out of his way to avoid her, and she drains the last of her drink tempted to open another bottle but finding she doesn't have the motivation to get from the couch to the kitchen.

Her bedroom is even more of a stretch but she'll regret it if she sleeps where she is, her body already stiff from missing too many yoga sessions... another thing she's let go of lately. With Faye's near constant demands she hasn't had the time and she's careful as she stands, shaking out pins and needles as she navigates a dizzying spin through the darkened hall.

She doesn't bother with lights until she's in her room, the harshness making her stop and wince- her gaze blinking at the full length mirror. The reflection staring back is one she has trouble reconciling with. She's the same person she was a few weeks ago but there's something different and it's not just the subtle weight-loss drawing her eyes down.

She looks... _frail,_ lacking the 'Donna' that's driven her personalty for so long and it's not who she wants to be, she just doesn't know how to escape the guilt dragging her down. It's all consuming and she flicks the switch again casting herself back into the darkness; somewhere away from the problems she's trying to forget.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

The dull ache between Harvey's temples intensifies as he stares at the computer screen, the words blurring almost beyond recognition. It's been the same relentless migraine he's had for days, the accumulation of stress starting to get to him but there's a small comfort in the fact his anxiety is now manageable. It no longer manifests in full blown panic attacks but that doesn't mean it isn't there, itching beneath his skin, desperate to worm its way out as changes keep spiraling around him; Robert falling on his sword, Faye's arrival, Louis' demotion and his _almost_ confession to Donna.

If he stops long enough to admit it to himself, it's the latter that brings on the same sense of panic making it harder to breathe. Running into Thomas at her door had been gut wrenching and the unease has remained pitted in his stomach no matter how much he tries to bury it and move on. Now he's accepted the way he feels he can't go back but he can't go forwards either, stuck in a hellish limbo that's made worse by the fact he created it.

Ever since he was absolved at his ethics hearing there's been a gaping desire inside him that winning can't fill. He wants something more and Donna's words from years before keep resonating with an irony that makes him slam down his laptop in frustration; he wants _her_ but he was too goddamn late. For 13 years he failed to see what was right in front of him and he has no right to blame her, _none_, but he does and there's a bitterness to their conversations that he has no control over. He's angry at her, at everything, and it isn't fair but he doesn't know how to handle his grief without her guidance. He needs her but their exchanges have become empty, void of trust, and he can feel them slipping further a part with each forced pleasantry.

He spins in his chair toward the thrall of his whiskey bottle, knowing he won't be getting anything else done tonight. The task became an over-reach the moment she left the building with some evasive reason, probably to meet Thomas and thought is all but confirmed when a tall shadow swims into the light the office.

"Donna's already gone- " he snaps at Kessler, angling back to his desk to feign the appearance of being busy.

The abrupt acknowledgement doesn't slow Thomas' approach. He isn't intimated by Harvey and stops midway into the room squaring his shoulders. Honestly, from what knows about the man's reputation he shouldn't have even come but from what he's seen where Donna is concerned, the lawyer genuinely cares about her. The night Harvey turned up at her door, leaving in too fast a rush, there had been something broken in the man's gaze. It wasn't his place to ask questions, putting trust in his relationship with Donna instead and despite any indiscretions that happened she still means something to him. He wants to walk away but he can't, not until he puts things right no matter how futile the attempt might be. "Do you have a minute?"

Harvey stiffens arching his back in the chair. "Not right now, _no_." The comment is met with skepticism and, realizing it would probably help his case, he peels open his laptop fixing his gaze on the screen.

There's only one thing Thomas can think of to account for the sudden hostility and he sinks his hands into his pockets testing his intuition. "She didn't tell you we broke up." The flicker of shock on Harvey's face is discrete but confirms it and Thomas can feel the knot in his stomach twist with more more unease. "She ended it weeks ago-" he takes a step, eyes moving around the office. He knew she was having a hard time even before their split but for her to not have said anything begs an different line of questions. "Nobody knows or _you_ didn't know?"

Harvey's mouth hangs, still caught up on the fact they're no longer seeing each other but Thomas' probing gaze prompts a response and he stumbles over himself, "I... why does _that_ matter?"

Thomas stills himself not one to let anger be a motivator. He isn't aggressive by nature but he is frustrated by the man's lack of observation. It took less than five minutes inside a coffee house for him to realize there was something wrong and he stops leading Harvey getting straight to his point. "I'm worried about her."

A frown turns Havey's lips at the blunt concern, his body language hesitant but not entirely dismissive. From what he knows about Kessler he wouldn't be here attempting any sort of angle. The man is nothing if not beholden to his morals but they're talking about Donna. Things have been strained lately, down right fucked if he's being completely honest, but that's...

_Normal._

He stops at the belated reasoning, a hand reaching up to massage the throb behind his temple. It might be status quo for the rest of them but not Donna. She should have called him on his shit by now or in the very least reigned in Louis and he swallows hard, glancing at Thomas. The two of them were supposed to be happy together. That's why his mind has been such a goddamn mess and for her to end it without even uttering a word, it's infuriating but Kessler is right... it's not like her and he's worried too. "What happened?"

Thomas shakes his head wishing he had an answer but their beak-up was cut and dry. She'd apologized, said she couldn't do it anymore and he'd had no room to move or argue. He couldn't force her into staying with him and a heavy sigh slips through his mouth as he offers all he can, "talk to her, Harvey. That's all I'm asking"

The advice is almost condescending but for once Harvey doesn't engage his own ego, too strung up in his emotions to find a clear way out. She should have told him but then again maybe if hadn't accused her of losing faith in him, if he hadn't lashed out because he was hurting, maybe she _would_ have.

It drives the headache in his skull further back, the sound of the door swinging closed confirming he's alone and goddamn Thomas _fucking _Kessler. He's the one man who's ever come close to being the kind of man Donna deserves and Harvey hates himself for the relief that washes over him. '

It's the first time he's been able breathe properly in weeks, despite his rising concern, and come tomorrow he's going to find out what the hell is going.


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

Donna stands at the coffee dispenser, beyond exhausted and impatiently waiting for the cup to fill. She has work to do but can't seem to find the motivation despite too much caffeine already pumping through her system. All it seems to be doing is increasing her anxiety and there's a slight shake to her hand as she clutches the mug, flinching when she catches Harvey's reflection in the shiny front of the machine. She'd timed the break around Louis' prunie schedule and she's never known Harvey to wander randomly into the partner's kitchen but she composes herself, turning with a nod.

"Harvey." She has no intention of staying but he leans in, his thumb and forefinger landing at the crook of her elbow and she immediately stills, curiosity surging over her pride and old habits dying hard. "Everything okay?"

He opens his mouth but the words he'd prepared falter as he let's his arm drop, taking in her pale complexion. She looks tired, like she's coming down with the flu or something, and he wants to turn the question back around but knows she's just as likely to shrug it off. Their friendship has become estranged, out of reach, and it hurts almost more than avoiding her did but one of them has to make the first move and he won't lie and say that learning about her break-up hasn't diminished his crippling fear of speaking to her.

"I need, you—" he stumbles over himself, trying to get the meaning straight "—your help on a case, if you're not busy later?"

Her first instinct is to call bullshit. There's no way he would suddenly up and out of the blue suggest they spend the evening together, but she's too deflated to play games. It's easier to agree than fight and she gives in with a shrug. "Sure... I just have to take care of a few things for Faye first."

The woman's name slips tightly through her lips, the smile she gives forced and slamming his guilt. He knows she's been working later, usually still at her desk when he leaves, but up until now he hadn't thought anything of it. "Donna, if she's asking you to—"

"It's fine," she cuts off his protest, not wanting to get into it. There's no point now anyway. The woman will be hiring an assistant soon enough and she quickly pushes her way around him. "I'll come by your office when I'm done."

He moves aside because she doesn't give him much of choice, his gaze trailing her sluggish steps and he breathes in deeply with a slow exhale. The conversation could have been worse, she could have told him to go to hell which he was half expecting, but the easy compliance doesn't sit well with him. It's not her. It's definitely not them, whatever that means these days. The one thing he does know is tonight's an opportunity to smooth things over, get them back on track and he isn't going to screw it up.

Not this time.

…

* * *

…

This isn't going to work.

That's what she'd told Thomas, the words replaying in her head as she prods her noodle-box deliberately fumbling with the chopsticks. Harvey's low voice fills the silence, and she nods where she should, makes the appropriate comments, but her mind is a million miles away from the conversation. It's only when he points out she's barely touched her meal that she realizes his container is empty and a glance at the clock tells her it has been for some time. "What if Murdoch takes the settlement instead?" She keeps them focused on the case because that's the reason she's here and scoops up a large bite, forcing it down.

"He won't. His father is dead against it." Harvey dips his gaze so she won't pick on the lie. Truth is, he'd figured out a way to change Gregory's mind nearly an hour ago and the fact she hasn't seen it is worrying enough, but it's her flatness, the disinterested tone that keeps him stalling. She might be here with him, but there's a space the size of a chasm resting between them. He's been waiting for her to finish eating before bringing it up, wanting her to at least get in a decent feed, but even that seems to be a struggle and he closes the file in his hand with a sigh. He didn't expect this to be easy. The last time they'd had a proper conversation was the night he'd accused her of losing faith in him and that had ended with Daniel Hardman barging in. He'd seen the guilt on her face, the pressure to make things right, and now it's his turn. "Donna—"

"I need to use the bathroom." She clears her throat, reacting to the subtle change in his tone and doing anything she can to avoid it. She isn't here to manage whatever internal crisis he's having. That ship sailed weeks ago, and she stands a little too fast, but the vertigo doesn't keep her from navigating a hasty exit.

He watches her leave, a wayward hand scrubbing at the stubble lining his jaw. He's trying and the old Donna would have recognized that, helped make it easier on him, not fled the room in a panic. He's terrified he let this go on too long; that the distance between them has dug roots, becoming their new normal. He should have fought but instead he was petty, acting out of insult and humiliation- his ego leading the way and admitting he was wrong now, feels like slapping a band-aid on a broken leg.

He's at a complete loss, circling through his thoughts until he realizes she's been gone far too long, and part of him wonders if she simply left. It's a stretch given her phone and purse are still on the table. She wouldn't abandon them just to avoid talking to him.

He hopes.

Honestly, he can't be sure and pushes up from the armchair, re-rolling his sleeves as he makes his way out of the office.

There's no sign of her on the way to the women's bathroom and he hesitates at the threshold, probably the only person in this place who's ever shown an ounce of privacy before barging in first. Well, except for when he'd beaten the shit out of Stephen Huntley- the memory making him wince.

He's always had feelings for Donna, he just wasn't able to access them until recently and that same drive leads him to press lightly against the door. He's met by the sound of aggravated coughing and is two seconds away from asking if she's okay when a flush drowns out the concern poised on his lips.

Not sure what to do he takes a step back letting the door close, hesitation rooting him to the spot. Maybe she genuinely isn't feeling well. It would explain why she's been so off but the explanation doesn't fit as easily as it should and his feet reluctantly kick back towards his office.

He has no intention of letting it go, but doesn't want to catch her off guard. Creeping outside the ladies room is a fight he'd rather avoid.

.

.

She rinses, spitting out the acidic taste in her mouth as she straightens, staring at her gaunt reflection in the mirror. She hadn't meant to react so physically to the awkwardness, but her stomach had orchestrated the movement on its own, needing to purge the sudden rush of stress, and she feels calmer turning off the faucet and moving to dry her hands.

She felt like she couldn't breathe under the strain of Harvey's probing gaze, the thin air tipping her need to do something to stay in control. She resolved to cut him out and move on and is fearful of the hope flaring up at his sudden interest in her life. It's like a poison in her veins, one that needs to be tied off to keep from spreading, and maybe it's harsh, but she steels herself on the way back to his office. The only way to keep herself from getting hurt again, is to protect herself, and plasters on a smile as she steps back into his office, picking up the document they were going through. "Where were we?"

She skims through the pages, not a hair out of place, and he swallows sharply, having spent the last five minutes running through scenarios from, what if she's sick to could she be pregnant? His head spinning from any excuse he can reason. The worry urges him to shun the work discussion, his gaze finding hers with no no cover or pretenses, just genuine concern. "Hey." He softens his tone, swallowing the fear knotted in his throat, "What's going on?"

She holds still, panic rearing again, but she forces it down, snapping her composure back into place. "Nothing."

The assurance is a lie, the split second of hesitation and the way her eyes refuse to meet his making him sigh. "Donna, look at me." She does, the uncertainty no longer visible in her hardened features. There's nothing readable to him. It's like she's flicked a switch, but the mask doesn't deter him. "You can talk to me," he presses, almost nervously. After 13 years he would never turn her away if she was in any kind of trouble, and a follow up to confirm the promise is poised on the tip of his tongue, but guilt stops him from voicing it. His actions recently haven't exactly been a reflection of the claim and an apology seems impossible without explaining why he's been so distant. The feelings he's been trying to bury are still there, now in full swing, but he needs to know she's okay. Above anything else, that's what matters to him. "Donna, please."

The gentle concern drops like an anvil in her stomach, but she doesn't react, forcing down the lump in her throat. Giving in to him won't lead anywhere. It never does. Because as painful as it is to admit; they don't work. They just keep hurting themselves, steamrolling over each other in the process, and she's not angry or even pissed about it anymore. She's just tired. Exhausted from fighting with him and always trying to escape his pull. Maybe he's been right all these years—caring is a weakness, and it's safer to not feel anything. "Everything's fine, it's just been a long day." It serves as enough of an explanation, not untrue, and she pulls the next file from the spread, sitting it on her lap and blinking the words into focus. "Do you have a transcript for the deposition?"

His jaw firm as he passes it over, and when she takes it without a glance, his frustration bubbles up without warning. "So that's it?" he questions, his tone tight with warring emotions. "We can't have a conversation as friends anymore?"

He expects some kind of response but she stonewalls him and he wonders if this is how she felt whenever he couldn't sum up the guts to answer one of her hard truths. But this isn't about him. It's about the subtle tremble in her hand as she gathers her purse, and he frowns, his features twisting with more worry and confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving, Harvey." She announces it calmly, trying to ignore the fast hammering against her ribcage as she stands up. She can't do this with him. Her anxiety is already skating too close to the surface, and she takes a wobbly step around his chair.

He cares.

He loves her, but it doesn't mean he wants more.

Great.

She doesn't want more either.

He trails her movement through the swinging door and instantly regrets his outburst. In the past he might have swallowed the urge to chase after her, but this time he doesn't, leaping up with fast strides to catch her. She steps inside the elevator and his hand flies out to stop her descent, the metal retracting with his palm, and he stares at her pale features, their lifelessness dredging up an apology to make her stay. "I'm sorry."

The sentiment sounds foreign, and she almost asks why, but knows he doesn't have an answer to the question. He's hanging on for the same reasons she used to. Because it's instinct, ingrained like muscle memory, but things change. People change. And she clutches her purse, exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry too, Harvey."

And she is.

For the fact they ended up here. For not being able to fix the firm. For letting everything turn to shit and not having the strength to care. She's sorry for all of it, but that doesn't change the new reality they're facing, and she reaches for the button, letting the doors close on him.

Telling herself that this is what it feels like to move on.

.

.

* * *

Harvey goes back to his office drowning himself in whiskey, trying to fight the concern hooking around his regret. He should have gone after her but he'd froze, the look of defeat in her gaze slamming him hard. He could have fought anger, even determination, but the way she'd left, like she'd just given up—cuts through him despite the alcohol he's using to block out the pain. It's helping but not nearly enough and he downs another mouthful, catching a shadow pass his door.

For a split second he thinks—hopes—it belongs to her, but Alex manifests instead, fueling a wave of annoyance. He hasn't seen the man in days, his absence ringing home hard, and Harvey grumbles into his glass, steering his gaze away from the man. "You're here late."

Alex nods, taking in the uneaten food spread across the table but not thinking much of it as he shrugs. "Joy is having a sleepover." His eyes move back to Harvey, wincing at the scowl etched in his features but not faltering with his explanation. "And I have a deposition tomorrow. Wanted to make sure everything was in order."

"So you thought you'd actually come into the office?" Harvey snaps the accusation, gripping the whiskey in his hand. He's probably had enough, the anger he's venting misdirected, but right now he doesn't give a shit. "Makes a change."

The comment isn't entirely unwarranted, just the tone, and Alex pockets his hands with a sigh. He has been working from home more but Faye approved the hours and he didn't think it was an issue- and looking around again, he's still not sure it is. Truth is he's been keeping a distance, letting Harvey work his own shit before coming to him, but taking the man in now he wonders if that was a mistake. "Is everything okay?"

Harvey bristles at the question as the man approaches him because it isn't. The place is burning to the ground and they need people here. They pay goddamn rent for a reason and he slams his glass down a little too hard, trying to rationalize his point. "I don't give a shit what your billables are, unless you want your office reassigned start fucking using it."

Usually Alex wouldn't take the anger to heart, but nothing about any of this is 'usual'. They've all been pushed to their limits and getting into a pissing match because Harvey's in a mood isn't going to help, but he isn't just going to stand around like some sort of pouncing bag. "You think I give a damn about a desk?" He asks, the question hitching with irritation. Last week he took Louis bowling, tomorrow he's having Samantha around his place for dinner. He's doing more than everyone else combined to simmer tensions and still managing to be there for his family so if Harvey wants someone to blame for whatever shit is going on, he should take a good hard look in the mirror. "I don't exactly see you putting in any—"

_Effort._

Is what he was going to say, but he stops, the stacked up take-away containers pulling his mouth into a confused frown. As far as he knows Harvey isn't exactly on dining terms with anyone, being a dark horse of late, and Alex shifts his gaze back to the man who seems suddenly more defeated than angry. It doesn't take a genius to figure out. There's only one person—woman—with the sway to send Harvey to the bottle like this and Alex flinches. "This is about Donna."

He's met by an empty silence that speaks volumes and in the past he's tried to be subtle, not wanting to get the shit beat out of him for calling it, but the flash of Harvey's distraught gaze makes him man up to the task. "Can I tell you a story?"

"Do I have a choice?" Harvey snipes, reaching for his drink again. He'd rather not hear whatever it is but like it or not, he's in over his head and he trusts Alex- enough to ease off and motion to the bottle.

Alex accepts the gesture, pouring himself a glass and landing in the chair opposite the senior partner as he clears his throat. "Third year of law school, Rosalie went behind my back about a pro-bono we were doing and we had a huge argument that broke us up... cause I thought she betrayed me and she thought I thought I was a better lawyer... but she didn't betray me and I didn't think I was better and none of that had anything to do with it anyway-" he shakes his head bringing the whiskey to his lips. He'd hoped when he'd told Donna the same version of events it might prompt an action but it hadn't occurred to to him that he was telling the wrong person and he swallows the alcohol with a sigh, "deep down Rosalie knew I was afraid of committing so she gave me an out, closed the window but you know what I realized... I didn't like being on the other side of the glass. She wasn't trying to hurt me Harvey, she did it so she could move on."

He can't help but picture the look on Donna's face when she'd left, the raw emptiness that had shot straight through him, but Ales is wrong—he isn't angry at Donna.

He's pissed at himself for giving up when he should have fought and the man's words are too little too late. "Then I don't know what else to say." He mummers against the rim of his glass. "She's moved on."

Bullshit, Alex thinks, the curse close to slipping free, but he quickly swallows it. He may not not know the ins and outs of what happened, but he knows one thing; people who let go of something are genuinely happier for it and if that's a sign to go by then Donna hasn't moved on from shit. "You know, I think she might just be as stubborn as you are and that's saying something."

There's something in-between the lines Harvey knows he's supposed to catch, but his thoughts are too sluggish and he lifts a hand, scrubbing it across the tired ache of his jaw. Truth is Donna could never talk to him again and sure it would crush him but if that steered her on the right path, if it meant she was back to being herself, he'd find a way to live it but it isn't that simple and dips his head sucking in a sharp breath. "I'm worried about her."

The words settle in the stillness and Alex draws his brows together, mulling over the man's concern. He doesn't know Donna as well as he'd like to and his recent focus has been on the obvious fires; calming Louis' anger and supporting Samantha through losing Robert. The redhead has blended into the background, seemingly fine, which is a sudden contradiction in his mind. The Donna he does know wouldn't buckle so easily under Faye and Harvey actually admitting he's worried is something that quickly elevates his concern. Donna is the heart and soul of the firm and if she isn't okay, it's not any wonder the rest of them are all out of sync, his own guilt urging him to address the problem, "then Harvey, we all need to get our head's back in the game because this is Donna we're talking about."

Her name resonates around the open space and Harvey knows they do; he just doesn't know how when she seems hell bent on shutting everyone out.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV.**

Donna takes a deep breath as she pushes on the door to Faye's office, separating the two folders in her hand as she approaches the woman's desk. "The reports you asked for and this is a list of personal assistants, hand-picked."

Faye wears a somewhat relaxed expression as she collects the documents, trusting they're all in order. "Better than Donna Paulsen?"

She assumes the comment is sincere, but her flat response is out of habit more than anything else. "Nobody's that good." The older woman nods and Donna forces a tight smile before turning on her heel to leave. She'd deliberately prioritized the list of candidates, hoping that once Faye hires a new head count, she can take some time off and maybe get out of the city for a while. Though the realization she has nowhere to go, Seattle now off the list, rests uncomfortably blocking any sense of excitement. It's a numb relief at best, but it still drives her exit toward the door.

"Donna..." Faye sets down the information, clasping her hands neatly over the files as the redhead stops just shy of the threshold. It hasn't been easy for her to assimilate proper conduct around the place, shadiness rearing at every impasse, but Donna has by far been the most accommodating. The COO get's on with things and she likes that though it's somewhat contradictory to what she's heard about the woman on the grapevine; fiery, always on the know and fiercely loyal to Harvey Specter. Faye hasn't gotten a sense that any of those things are the case but Donna's expertise has been invaluable and while she isn't usually quick to dish out compliments, she will if they're warranted. "I appreciate the effort you've been putting in. It hasn't gone unnoticed."

The gratitude should resonate somewhere, but it doesn't, the sentiment borderline patronizing to Donna. It hardly takes a genius to hone office skills and taking on the role of glorified assistant is far below her capabilities, but she doesn't see the point in ruffling feathers. She did the job end of story and her lips pull together feigning appreciation. "It's not a problem."

"No it doesn't seem to be." Faye leans back in her chair, eyes raking over the slim redhead. "Which makes me think it is." There's no malice behind the accusation. In fact it's the opposite. Usually she would ignore rumors, her job to form unbiased conclusions but Donna's reputation has a far reach, and she's overlooked her curiosity for long enough, an element of concern slipping into her expression as she motions to the chair opposite her. "I don't mean it as an insult Donna, please sit."

She's instantly reluctant to do so but can't think of a way around it and she obeys the instruction, smoothing down her dress and folding one leg over the other as she lowers herself.

The apprehension doesn't go unnoticed but Faye glosses over it, sincerity behind what she has to say. "I have a lot of respect for women in this industry, especially people who have worked hard to get ahead and as far as I'm concerned you've more than proved your integrity."

The frankness is less condescending but Donna knows she's being led, she just doesn't know where or why and the uncertainty makes her anxious but she swallows it forcing a confident front. "Thank you, I appreciate —"

"I'm sure you do." Faye cuts off the line she was about to be fed, this being exactly her point. She may not know the redhead personally or the full story behind everything that happened but when Donna came to her admitting the truth about why Thomas Kessler left the firm, it struck a chord. Not only did she respect the honestly, but if there's one thing she understands it's that getting lost in a relationship that was supposed to last can sometimes be a difficult thing to process. Whatever she's seen from the woman opposite her, Faye's sure it doesn't even scratch the surface and she leans forward, genuine in her attempt to reach out. "If you ever need to talk Donna, about anything... My door is open."

She's instantly wary of the offer, her instincts unable to tell if there's an angle to it but either way Donna isn't inclined to take it up. The last thing she needs is a member of the ethics board snooping around her private affairs and it's definitely not her job to make the woman seem more approachable. "That's very generous Faye, but everything's fine." She curves her mouth to sell the response as she pushes up, not giving it anymore attention as she collects herself.

Faye breathes in slowly, her words clearly having little to no impact as the redhead carries herself across the floor and she picks up the nearest pen tapping it twice against the edge of her desk. "You know they say 'fine' is the devil's word." The comment only stops the woman for a moment, her heels quickly continuing over the threshold and Faye dips her head back down leaving it be.

She likes Donna but if things keep going the way they are the woman is headed for a fall; and it's not going to be good.

...

* * *

...

"Harvey."

He doesn't turn at the sound of Louis' strained voice, his gaze fixed on Donna. She's laughing a little too animatedly at something Gretchen said, the pair's conversation muted behind the closed glass of the break room and he stills as the rounder man steps inline with his shoulders. There's only one reason Louis would approach him right now, their friendship tense like everything else, and he breathes out a belated sigh, "I know Louis."

"I just—" he stops, concern directing his gaze toward Donna "—she's not okay, is she?"

Harvey shakes his head, the truth dredging up like sandpaper scratching his throat. "No Louis, she's not." Maybe her persona is still able to fool people, trick them into thinking there's nothing going on, but he's hooked on every tiny detail. The way her dresses gather now, how she hardly steps out of her office and when she does, it's to drink water by the gallon. Even Mike got in touch last night concerned she hasn't been taking Rachel's calls, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to demand the kid's wife get on a plane and fly out here. Instead he'd been careful in dishing out his worry, not wanting to suggest something that might make things worse. Right now Donna seems adamant against a confrontation, Alex confirming she'd shut him down multiple times as well, and leaving Harvey not sure what to do next.

The silence stretches between them and Louis clears his throat wrestling with the guilt that's been eating away at him. He should have been there for Donna, but losing managing partner had rattled his own decline. He'd turned to his family, to Sheila, instead. Hell, two days ago he'd been on the verge of accepting a judgeship, but Gretchen had seen right through his lie about the interview, warning that he still has a place and a family here—one who needs him. He hadn't understood at first. Not until the secretary had slapped him upside the head pointing across to Donna's office and asking if he even knew about her break-up with Thomas. It had apparently happened weeks ago and Gretchen wasn't wrong in telling him to pull his head out of his ass and start paying attention. "It's my fault."

Harvey's gaze snaps around, frustrated by the man's need to make everything about him, but the annoyance wavers at the genuine remorse etched across his face. "Louis—"

"The day after Robert was fired, I came to you with that press release." He swallows roughly, having thought nothing of it at the time. He'd been doing damage control, trying to fix everything that was fucked up, but amidst the chaos he'd actively avoided Donna. Part of him was looking for someone to blame, a place to channel his anger, and then he'd gotten so wrapped up in his own shit he hadn't even noticed she wasn't there forcing him to deal with it. "She asked why I didn't run it by her and I was pissed, I snapped something—I swear I can't even remember what it was, but she was upset and I was going to apologize but then Faye showed up and I never—"

"Louis, it's okay." Harvey stops the ramble in its tracks, his eyes landing back on Donna as she leaves the break room, disappearing out of his view. It's not the man's fault. Maybe his actions played a part, but that can be said for all of them. Instead of standing together, they'd let fear and anger steer the helm, expecting something to magically avert a collision. That something has always been Donna, and he's an idiot because it took him until now to realize just how much pressure she's been under over the years. "We all screwed up."

Louis takes a deep breath, the air flowing more freely through his chest despite the emotions he's warring with. It took Gretchen's forceful approach to make him see what was happening but now he's reading the man beside him Donna's not the only one he's suddenly worried about. How he got here isn't a mystery but how Harvey and Donna did, that's something he hadn't even considered. "You haven't tried talking to her?"

"I—" Harvey opens his mouth instantly defensive but his failed attempts to try play back and he answers with a tight shake of his head.

"Wait, Harvey... did something happen?" There's genuine concern directed at his friend, the term for their relationship ringing true for the first time since this shit show with Faye started. A few years ago he would have thrown blame without asking, but if he's learnt anything, it's that Harvey would go to any lengths for Donna, and the anguish written across the man's face only confirms it.

"After my hearing I went to see her, I thought…" Harvey swallows, stalling as the explanation gets trapped in his throat. He thought, what? That he would show up at her door, admit he's in love with her, and she'd welcome him in with open arms. It seems ridiculous now and the fact they can't even hold a conversation pits in his stomach. "Thomas was there, so I left." His fingers cling to the insides of his pockets, not expecting Louis to piece the fragmented explanation together. Maybe Mike would have. The kid's uncanny ability to read him is overbearing at times. But to his surprise, for someone usually completely clueless, Louis doesn't miss a beat.

"Oh my god, you were going to tell her." His eyes widen at the revelation, the conclusion not a stretch because he's never seen so much vulnerability in Harvey's expression before. The only explanation is that he finally saw what's been staring him in the face all these years, and how to fix everything hits Louis like a lightning bolt. All Harvey has to do is finally admit how he feels, and then his two friends can finally be happy together. "Harvey you have to say something."

He shakes his head adamant against the suggestion, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Not only is the whole conversation awkward, but there's no way in hell he's going to risk doing anything that might push her further away. "I _can't_, Louis."

"Like hell you can't." He flails an arm, tired of the same old bullshit. They went through it after Donna was fired, when she changed desks, and every other fucking time something caused a ripple in the pair's relationship. If the way Donna's struggling now isn't enough motivation for Harvey to step up his game, then he's not going to wait around for the man to see sense. "And if you won't, then I'm going to tell her how I goddamn feel."

"_Louis_—"

Harvey steels his voice in warning, but the man is already storming out and he sits on the rest of his protest because he's a fucking coward. And for all Louis' faults, the man wears his heart on his sleeve, and maybe that's the best way to help Donna right now.

He just wishes he was capable of doing the same thing.

...

* * *

...

Louis knocks on the glass surrounding Donna's office slightly out of breath as he pushes his way through, determined but faltering when she glances up looking less than impressed by the intrusion. He almost regrets barging in, but the hesitation doesn't keep him from taking a step forward, his palms skating down the sides of his trousers to calm his nerves. "Hey, you got a sec?"

She wants to point out that the door was closed for a reason but keeps a lid on the irritation dipping her head back down. "I don't Louis, right now I'm swamped."

He nods, standing awkwardly at the dismissal. After everything he just demanded of Harvey, he can't exactly turn around and leave but he isn't sure what to say, the tension in the room making it hard for him to find a clear starting point. "I just wanted—"

"To ignore everything I say?" she mutters tersely, the highlighter in her hand faltering as she takes a breath. Between Faye's sudden interest in her life and Gretchen's concern, she doesn't have time to go through the same routine with Louis. She's fine. Just over tired and the sudden gnaw in her stomach doesn't help matters, but she pushes down the queasiness, doing her best to appease the man in front of her. "What is it Louis?"

He moves again, wringing his hands together as he approaches her desk, taking in the mess dumped across it. There are files and reports spread out everywhere like she's doing some sort of catalogue, and he frowns, momentarily forgetting the reason he's there. "Why are you going through the transcript for the Jordan trial?" He squints at the page to make sure he's reading it correctly. "That hearing was months ago."

"Faye wants a detailed review of all the evidence logs dating back to the start of the year." She's short with the explanation, hoping it won't prompt anymore questions, but his hand quickly travels to the nearest stack, making her anxious as he starts rifling through it.

"Donna, she can't ask you to do this." From what he can see there are at least fifty cases to go through, and he picks one out at random, one he tried, which only serves to further his frustration.

She reaches over snatching the folder back off him, trying to keep some sort of order to the system she has in place. "Well, she _did_, and I am."

He bristles at her bluntness and the task itself. Not only does it undermine every single win they've had over the past six months, but it's not Donna's responsibility to be Faye's personal lacky. She's COO for a reason and they need her doing her job, not this bullshit. "Why haven't you told Faye to go fuck herself?"

Her gaze snaps up at the throwaway expletive. She's used to hearing him swear candidly but really isn't in the mood for his theatrics right now. "Louis, _don't_."

"Donna, this is not your job." He ignores the warning, ready to push whatever buttons if he has to, he doesn't give a damn. It's no wonder she hasn't been acting like herself with all this added stress on her plate, but what he doesn't understand is why she's taking it all on. Why she's rolling over instead of telling Faye exactly where to shove her goddamn ethics bullshit. "You worked your ass off to get where you are and now you're happy being Faye's lapdog, what the hell is going on with you?"

Happy. She almost wants to cry at the insinuation because it couldn't be further from the truth, but she's been 'helping' because it was the easiest way out of the screwed up situation she got them into. She won't be shamed into feeling worse than she already does. "Who do think you think she would have gone to, if I'd said no?" she asks, throwing the accusation back at him. "Would you have been happy to lose Katrina or Gretchen? Because Faye isn't going anywhere, Louis, and if being her 'lapdog' means the rest of you aren't running around like Pitbulls, then I'm not going to apologize for it."

The end of the sentence is clipped, her hand shaking as she picks up a highlighter, and he's slammed by a wave of guilt that smothers his anger. Of course she'd been trying to protect the firm. What he hadn't realized is how much blame she's shouldering over what happened. Enough to stop her from telling Faye to go to hell or reaching out, and he swallows sharply, because he'd played just as much a part in letting everything turn to shit. Robert stepping down wasn't the only thing that got them here. Their choices over the years built the bridge, and it isn't fair that she's punishing herself for all of their mistakes. "Then let me help."

The change in his tone lifts her gaze up, his expression completely sincere, and she doesn't know what caused the sudden shift, but it doesn't matter. She just wants to be left in peace to finish the task. "I appreciate the offer, Louis, but it's not necessary. And besides, don't you have two depositions to prepare for?"

_Shit_.

He does, most of his week already accounted for, but he's not going to leave without trying to fix the tension still strained between them. "Then let me take you to lunch tomorrow." Her face pales at the suggestion, stirring his determination. She needs to make time to eat. Faye can't deny her the goddamn simple human right, and he plants his palms over her desk, close to begging. "Donna, please." He motions to the surrounding stacks. "Working like this is ridiculous, and I'm worried about you. So unless you want me to go to Faye—"

"Okay, Louis." She holds up her hand, warning him off doing anything rash. "You're right." He isn't, and the absolute last thing she wants to do is take more time out, wasting an afternoon sat in front of food she has no appetite for. But she knows how relentless he can be, and if all it takes is an hour to get him—and everyone else—off her back, it's a small sacrifice to make. "Lunch, tomorrow."

"I'll make us a reservation." He expects something else to follow from her mouth, but there's no further acknowledgment of the plan, and he reluctantly takes it as his cue to leave.

On his way back to his office, he catches Gretchen's gaze, and her reassuring nod helps settle the unease twisting in his stomach. He hopes to god he's doing the right thing by pushing Donna. Because if he screws it up, Gretchen will be next in line to kill him, right after Harvey.

.

.

* * *

**AN:** _I wanted to thank everyone for the reviews and all the support with this story! I initially had this chapter written without the last part but all the encouragement made me want to flesh the story out a bit more. Although then I remembered how much I hate writing Louis haha. Hope you enjoyed!_


	5. Chapter 5

**V.**

Harvey sets down his whiskey with a sigh, his eyes drifting to the lights scattered across the darkened horizon. The city that never sleeps, always bustling with life, but it feels empty tonight. He can't even remember the last time he didn't come straight home from work, sulking in the silence of his condo, and he leans forward over the black-mirrored coffee table picking up his phone. It's late and maybe he shouldn't call, but his thumb unlocks the device anyway, scrolling too far back in his contacts list. It rings three times before the line answers with a click and he breathes softly into the receiver, "hey, mom."

Lily smiles at the sound of her son's voice, her feet padding toward the kitchen. "Harvey, I was starting to get worried."

He winces, knowing it's been a while since he rang, but the apology doesn't breach his lips. Instead, he sinks into the couch, warding off a chill as his shoulders meet the cool leather upholstery. "Is now a bad time? I know it's late..."

"Not at all." She insists, always glad to hear from him. As it is their conversations are too few and far between but she treasures them, grateful to be a part of his life again. "I was just about to make some tea. Is everything okay?"

He stills at the question, not sure how to answer and his thumb rocks nervously over his knee. Going to his mother for advice is a relatively new concept to him and he still struggles with opening up but this is important and he pinches the fabric of his trousers, stilling his hand. "You remember I told you it was someone special who helped us reconcile?"

Lily nods, turning off the stove and removing the kettle, hovering it over her mug. "I remember putting my foot in my mouth when I thought that person was Paula."

The sound that catches in his throat could almost be misconstrued as amusement, but it hardens quickly. "Her name is Donna, and I... Tried to tell her how I feel but—"

He stops, shaking his head struggling to get the words out. They've been trapped inside him for so long, ever since that night at her apartment, and he doesn't care if admitting the truth makes him a hypocrite because if he doesn't tell someone it's going to keep eating away at him. "She was with someone, and I couldn't—"

His words cut off abruptly, the kettle returning softly against the grate as Lily takes a moment knowing how big a deal this is. Since her marriage broke down, since her affair, he's always had issues with infidelity and for him to blur those lines now proves just how special Donna is to him. "Harvey... I'm so sorry."

He nods as if it somehow helps and maybe it does in some small way. Ever since Thomas came to see him he's been beating himself up, and he still blames himself for the way things played out, but having someone on his side, regardless of right or wrong genuinely eases the burden. "They broke up, but she didn't tell me. We haven't really been on good terms."

Lily holds the phone with her shoulder, both hands working around the steaming cup of tea, trying to piece everything together. Comforting her younger son has always been easier. Even as boys, Marcus was straight to the point with his emotions, while Harvey was more cautious and testing, at times even manipulating but she knows her son and for him to be reaching out like this means he's really hurting. "Harvey, what's happened?"

Her voice is gentle, the softness making him lean forward in search of his drink. He doesn't know how to explain it, everything the past few weeks has uncovered, and he takes a sip of whiskey, letting the burn loosen his words. "I'm worried about her, mom." He swirls the liquid in his hand, shaking his head into the call. "She's not herself, she won't talk to anybody... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

The desperation crackling through the line makes Lily sigh, her heart aching to be there with him and speak to the woman who from the sounds of things is in just as much pain as her son. If it were anyone else, she mightn't be so sympathetic, but from what she's heard Donna has only ever been a support to Harvey, particularly in the years she wasn't there. Not only that but she has the redhead to thank for reconnecting them and she's careful with her words, testing—the same trait that Harvey has stemming from her side of the family. "You know I've always liked Donna."

He frowns at the comment, confusion replacing his worry for a fleeting moment as his glass sinks onto the table, "what... how do you even know who she is?"

His surprise isn't unwarranted and Lily blows on her tea, taking a sip and swallowing it down. "I know about her, Harvey, because she's a part of life. Your brother and father could both see that."

A lump catches in his throat, the mention of his father and Donna in the same context stealing the air from his lungs- the memory of the night they'd met jarring him. It had been brief, Gordon finding them at a bar after work and Harvey had asked Donna to join them. She'd declined, leaving with an excuse he can't remember now but he does recall his father's good natured tease; that it had been a long time since Harvey had introduced one of his girlfriends. The thought of Gordon seeing it as more, even back then, makes his grip tighten around the phone.

He already lost his father, he can't lose Donna either.

The silence spills into minutes, his breathing heavy on the other end of the line, and Lily waits until it steadies before speaking tenderly. "From what I do know, Donna's a smart, intelligent woman and maybe she's not ready to talk yet, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to listen."

He nods at the advice, wondering if it could be that simple, if finding the right words to say could really turn things around; if they're even inside him to begin with. He doesn't have the answer, but the question is more than he started with and he owes that to the woman on the other end of the call. "Thanks mom, this was... it means a lot."

Her eyes well up at the gratitude and she swallows, clearing her throat. "Let me know how all it turns out, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." He purses his lips as he hangs up the phone, the stillness of the apartment creeping up on him and he stands knowing it's going to be a restless night but still lured by the urge to sleep or in the very least try.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI.**

Dona blinks; once, twice—her focus swimming as the room becomes brighter, and she breathes in slowly, trying to ward off the sharp pinpricks of color. She feels dizzy, but the knot in her stomach keeps her grounded as she stretches an unsteady hand toward the water on her desk. The liquid is cool as it washes down her throat, and she glances at the time, wanting to be early for her appointment with Louis.

_Lunch_, she corrects herself.

It's not an interview or formal engagement, even if it feels like one. The entire point is to paint a picture of normality—where she doesn't lie awake half the night tormented by her thoughts.

It's fine.

She's fine.

Maybe not great, but she's finding her way back. Last night she'd read one of her favorite plays, losing herself in the words instead of obsessing over what today would bring. It felt good not to think for a change, and she's determined to keep the positive state of mind going. To show Louis that he doesn't need to worry and neither does anyone else. Because all the hovering and concerned looks are just making things worse, like pouring gasoline over her guilt. She needs things to go back to the way they were, when everybody left her alone, and she pushes up collecting her purse together with a sigh.

It's just one hour, she reminds herself, moving across the carpeted space and out onto the marbled floor, the reflection straining her eyes. She rubs them tiredly, not seeing Harvey until she's almost on top of him, and her stomach clenches as she takes a step back to avoid the collision. It's a mistake. Her heels misjudge the angle and her fingers latch onto the barrier of desks to steady the sudden wave of dizziness.

She blinks twice—maybe more—because he's at her side before she's aware of her surroundings, one of his hands hovering at her elbow while the other keeps a tight hold of his bagel.

"Donna?"

His solid frame blocks her view, trapping her against the petition, and she straightens, steadying her voice. "I was just heading out."

To meet Louis—he knows. The man had come by his office earlier, but not with the gloat Harvey had expected. Instead, he'd confessed to being nervous, unsure what to say to Donna, and Harvey had rallied his mother's advice telling Louis to say what he felt and just let Donna listen. Easy words to dish out, but standing in front of her now, he doesn't want to push his concern or do anything that might keep her from going, so he plays things casually. "Hot date?

"Lunch with Louis," she answers, trying to force a smile, but it falls short of sincere, and she clears her throat. "Actually I'm running late, so—"

She isn't. A glance at the clock behind her tells him as much. Louis, as always, had been meticulous with details, but he moves out of her way, letting the lie slide. "Ray's outside, get him to drive you." He doesn't push the offer, even though he wants to. She's far too pale and he's not comfortable with the idea of letting her go alone, but he fights his instincts, trying to convince himself it's the right thing to do. "I'll see you later."

"Sure." The word whispers its way out as she moves around him, the distance of each fast step flooding her with relief. She can handle Louis. Harvey has a way of staring straight through her, that throws her off balance every time, and her palm is shaky as she catches the elevator, her eyes landing on the only other occupant in the carriage.

"Samantha." She greets the woman, feeling small as slinks inside. The blonde is only an inch taller in the shoes she's wearing, but it's not the physical difference that fuels her unease. Since Harvey's trail an apology has been burning on the tip of her tongue, but she hasn't been able to part with it, too ashamed by her actions to acknowledge them out-loud, and the time for platitudes has come and gone, making a heavy rush of regret fill her chest.

"Donna." Samantha straightens, pursing her lips together as the doors slide closed. She isn't pissed, not anymore. Losing Robert had been a blow, but he hasn't disappeared from her life. He's still there on the other end of a phone when she needs to talk and it isn't the same, but she's finding ways to deal with the loss. Throwing all her frustrations into work and slamming anyone who dares take her on has been… therapeutic, and in a way, she could almost thank Donna, but now, even the irony feels like an unfair attack.

_Nobody did anything to intentionally hurt anybody._

Those were Alex's words and they ring in her head almost aggressively. The man had helped her to see things in a different light. Like how it was 'possible' she'd been feeling abandoned and 'maybe' that's why she'd lashed out after Robert's departure. Of course she'd initially refuted the insight, but she's starting to accept he may have had a valid point. Robert had told her time and again to lean on these people—that she can trust them—but after his disbarment, nobody had taken the time to own up to their mistakes or even muster up an apology. She'd felt like an outsider and so she acted like one, but as Alex had bluntly put it; she isn't being ostracized and they aren't all out to get her.

The whole goddamn place is capsizing and they're all trying to scramble into the same lifeboat—every man or woman for themselves, but there's room for all of them. They just have to start helping, instead of climbing all over each other. It had felt like a long winded metaphor to get to a point, but she loosens her jaw, trying to heed the man's advice. "Going to lunch?"

Donna nods, her gaze shifting awkwardly as she struggles with what to say in return. She hasn't been keeping tabs on people like she used to and in turn doesn't have a conversation starter to lead with, so when her mouth opens and no sound follows, she promptly closes it—clutching her purse in defeat.

The silent response is out of character, and Samantha subtly catches the woman's reflection in the panel against the wall. The redhead looks tired, her cheeks lacking their usual vibrancy and her stance is timid despite the death grip she has on her bag. The image raises alarm bells for several reasons—bringing up lunch engagements from her own past she'd rather forget, and more pointedly, relationships that didn't always have a healthy effect. It's not her place to make assumptions or judge. From what she's heard Kessler is a good guy, but she still probes her concern. "Meeting Thomas?"

"Louis." Donna corrects, the flicker of surprise in Samantha's gaze puncturing through her. The blonde has been the only one who hasn't approached her recently, and she's been fine with the distance, but she'd still like to keep things amicable between them, and offers the truth with a shrug. "Thomas and I broke up."

The news is a shock to Samantha. Given everything Donna sacrificed for Kessler, she'd assumed the pair were solid, and doesn't know whether to be pissed Roberts retirement had seemingly been forced for no good reason, or genuinely worried things hadn't worked out for the redhead. Whatever happened, it's clearly been taking its toll on the woman, and Samantha tries to summon her compassion forward. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine." The cart comes to a standstill and Donna forces a smile as she steps out, catching her hand against the door to steady herself against the bright lights of the foyer. She only stops for a moment, pulling herself together, and leaving Samantha behind her—eager to distance herself from another unwanted encounter.

Samantha deliberately hangs back, the full view of Donna's thin arms momentarily blinding her loyalty to Robert. She hadn't registered the woman's frailty in the small, darkened confines of the elevator, but it's painstakingly obvious to her now, there's a serious problem there, and she hits the button back up to the fiftieth floor, deciding it's time to start putting Alex's advice into action.

If they're ever going to become the family Robert wanted them to be, they have to start looking out for each other, and if she's learnt anything, it's that a problem with Donna is one and the same as a problem with Harvey.

...

* * *

...

Louis stares at the folded swan napkin next to his plate, comparing it critically to its partner on the other side of the table. One is definitely more superior, with stronger lines and he reaches out to swap them so he has the more angular of the two but it flops as he sets it down. He glares at it, the bird now the lesser of the two creations, and he leans forward again in the middle of changing them when Donna appears above him.

He startles, leaning back in his chair with a nervous wave of his hand. "I was just—"

"Making sure I had the best swan?" She answers, folding her dress as she sits across from him. He flushes, and she inwardly sighs, a headache starting to build, but she forces a smile through the dull ache as she pulls herself into the table.

His hands search for a distraction and fall to the clothed swan, no longer caring about its structural integrity. This morning he'd been in a blind panic over what he was going to say to her, even seeking advice from Harvey and for a man who doesn't seem to know how to use his words he'd been surprisingly succinct—just wear his heart on his sleeve and hope to hell she listens. "Donna, I want to start by saying—"

"Actually Louis, do you mind if I say something first?" She cuts him off, curling her fingers and not entirely faking her nerves. She's not short of her own regrets and finds it's easy to slip her mouth around an apology. "I shouldn't have snapped at you and I'm sorry. I've been a little out of sorts recently, and everything just got on top of me."

He swallows, not having expected her to come right out with an acknowledgement. He thought it would take at least some coaxing to get her to talk and he tilts his head, trying not to sound suspicious as he tests the waters. "Is everything okay?"

"I—" She opens her mouth, ready to offer an explanation when the waiter approaches and her lips curve politely, the man smiling back, when Louis suddenly barks at him.

"Hey _Bore-en._" He slides his gaze over the man's name badge. "This isn't a speed trial. How about giving us a minute?"

"It's pronounced _Borran_ Sir... and I thought you might be needing these."

He slaps two menus down, sauntering away from the table, and Louis catches Donna's unimpressed look from across the table. "He's going to spit in my food, isn't he?"

"If he ever comes back," she agrees, passing him one of the weighted blue velvet covers and taking the other for herself, opening it to an array of options that make her stomach want turn in on itself.

Louis doesn't feign any interest in the menu. He's been ordering the same beef rangoli for the past four years and is more concerned by the color slipping from Donna's cheeks. She's wearing the same look Shelia's had on her face since morning sickness kicked in, and his mouth gapes at the possibility. "Wait... Donna, are you—" he hesitates, not sure how to ask the question "—I just mean, Sheila hasn't been able to keep anything down lately and you're, you seem…"

"Louis, are you trying to ask if I'm pregnant?" Astonishment laces the question, her voice low as it carries between them, and she can tell by the deep shade of scarlet painting his features, that's exactly what he was implying.

"You said you've been out of sorts." He tries to justify himself, flushing with further embarrassment. There was time he's sure she wouldn't have taken the slip to heart, but she quickly takes further offense to the insinuation.

"So you automatically assume I'm knocked up?" Her hand twitches toward her purse, desperate for any excuse to escape, even though she knows it's completely irrational to lash out at the assumption. She doesn't want to be here, but she is—and for a reason, urging her to take a deep breath "Louis, I'm not pregnant," she reveals, calmly, so there's no misinterpreting the facts. "I had a stomach bug and I've been run down. The stress with Faye hasn't been helping, that's why I've been a little off."

He tries to work his way around the explanation, not recalling her taking any sick days or showing symptoms of the flu—but that could be a lack of observation on his part. They haven't exactly been spending a lot of time together recently, and if she'd been unwell, it would explain a lot. "Have you been to see a doctor?"

"I have an appointment on Friday," she answers smoothly, stuck between a half-truth and a full blown lie. She was sick, sort of. Maybe hungover would have been a better description, but hadn't been a picture of health. And while she has no intention of seeing her GP on Friday, she is intending to go home early and catch up on sleep. But there's no reason to get bogged down by schematics. Louis needs assurance she's fine, and she forces herself to choose an item from the menu, closing the sleeve in the hope it will move things along. What she isn't expecting is to be met by Louis' guilt ridden expression when she glances up.

"Donna, I'm so sorry." He's never been shy about admitting his faults, at least rarely around her. Donna's confidence and belief in him is something he's always been grateful for. And when they were working together, he'd cherished the time, amazed by her each and every day. They'd become friends, but he'd lost sight of that—too selfish and stupid to see how much she was hurting. If he could go back in time and change his behaviour he would, in a heartbeat, but all he can do now is apologize, and hope she's able to forgive him. "I lashed out at you after Robert left and it wasn't fair. You were trying to protect Thomas, someone you cared about, but I got caught up in my own bullshit with Faye—I let you down, and if you're still pissed at me, it's okay, I get it. I would be too."

"Louis, I'm not angry." The rawness behind his honesty tugs at something in her chest, but she's quick to push the feeling aside, burying it beneath the weight of everything else that's too complicated to deal with. She's moved on from what happened between them, and her eyes dart over his shoulder, signalling to Borran that they're ready and fixing Louis with a smile. "Why don't we call this a fresh start?"

He sags with relief, wanting nothing more, but as much as he'd like to put everything behind them, he's still wary that there are problems contributing to her stress, and he wasn't lying when he said he'd wanted to help. "This thing with Faye, if you need me to tell her—"

"Very politely, she's out of line?" Donna answers as their waiter approaches the table, trying not to make the employee any more uncomfortable. Louis picks up on the subtle hint, overly polite as he orders, and she follows with a request for the mango lentil salad, ignoring the silence that falls over the table when she doesn't ask for more. Instead, she waits for Borren to leave, steering the conversation back to Faye, distracting from Louis' hesitation. "Like I said, she'll have her own assistant soon and then it won't be a problem."

The comment has sound reasoning, but he's more concerned by the little she ordered, in two minds about raising his concern. On one hand, if she's been ill, he doesn't want to overreact—having done enough of that in the past—but Harvey had told him to voice what he's feeling, and the man's name sticks in his throat. Because he's the one sitting here, listening to Donna justify everything, but Harvey's the person who had pushed him to confront her. Maybe the closer hadn't said the words out loud, but he didn't object either—and Donna refusing to talk to Harvey is something he's never witnessed before. Even when she'd switched places and moved to his desk, the two had found their way back to each other. But this feels different… Like she's given up, and he can't help questioning her. "What about Harvey?"

She stiffens, coming dangerously close to letting her facade slip as she lifts her water off the table. "What about Harvey?" she throws back, not sure why Louis would even be bringing him up. The two men have hardly been on speaking terms recently, and she's caught off guard when his defense punctures holes in her assumption.

"He's worried about you Donna, _really _worried." The truth spills out, and he watches her reaction carefully—the way she averts her gaze recoiling through him. She squares her shoulders, poised like the words are hitting an invisible barrier, and he dives in because they're a family, and all he wants to do is piece them back together. "Harvey told me about the night he went to your apartment, and I don't know what happened, Donna, but—"

"What are you talking about?" she asks, confusion breaking through her guard. The last time Harvey had been to her apartment was almost a year ago, right after she'd resigned and he'd broken up with Paula. She'd asked him in and he'd declined—the relevance making no sense, given the times that's past.

"The night after his hearing," Louis clarifies, just as confused as she is. "Harvey said he went there to see you."

_Shit._

Her perplexed expression propels him back to the conversation he'd had with Harvey. The man hadn't actually mentioned seeing her. He'd assumed they'd spoken, or something had been miscommunicated because of Thomas, but her vacant expression makes him immediately backpedal. "Nothing, I didn't mean—forget I said anything."

He clears his throat, throwing up his hands, and she narrows her gaze, needing to know what he 'thinks' happened, because if there's one thing she's sure of, it's that Harvey didn't come round to her place. Not after his trial or in the days of silence that followed. "_Louis_."

A nervous lump forms in his throat, not sure how involved he should get, but if Donna's spiralling because she thinks Harvey doesn't care, and he has the power to steer them back on track, then for the sake of his own sanity, he needs to say _something_. "He's in love with you, Donna.

She feels sick to her stomach, dizzy under the weight of words she wasn't expecting that can't be backed up by proof. Harvey wasn't at her apartment. She's certain of the fact and pales, snapping across the table. "Whatever you _think _he meant, you're wrong, Louis. But it doesn't matter. I thought we came here to talk about _our _relationship, clearly I was mistaken."

The anger vibrating from her is something he's never witnessed before, and he reaches to cover her purse before she can lift it off the table. "Wait, _please_." He fixes her with a soft expression, taking a breath, and doing what he should have done in the first place—put faith in their friendship, and not rely on Harvey to be the bridge. They're a family, and he wants the best for all of them, but he and Donna have stood together on their own before, and if that's what she needs right now, he can give it to her. "You're right. This isn't about Harvey, and if you ask me to never mention his name ever again, I swear to god I won't."

He sits back in a rush, lifting his palms in surrender and she removes her hand from her clutch because for all of Louis' quirks—for all the questionable decisions he's made over the years—he's never intentionally lied to her. The promise might be over-dramatizing, but it's enough to keep her seated, because all she has to do is convince him she's fine, then his mouth will do the rest. "How about we start by covering some baby names, instead?"

His eyes flash with something she can't identify with, relief or maybe excitement, and she feels guilty as she forces herself to engage, teased into the conversation by things that she still cares about deep down, but can't connect with. She feels like she's playing a part and has plenty of experience in the field—letting herself enjoy the distraction as much as she can.

...

* * *

...

Samantha doesn't slow her stride from the elevator, making her way into Harvey's office. He's finishing off the last of his bagel, but she's neither here nor there with the fact as he glances up. Instead, she stops at his desk, hands poised over her hips, ignoring the fact he's already half-way through his lunch break. "We're going for a drink."

He swallows his food, flinching at her demanding pose as confusion laces his voice. "It's the middle of the day."

"_Good_, you can tell the time," she throws back, not in the mood for games. He doesn't strike her as the kind of man who would turn down a drink depending on where the sun is sitting, and she challenges his ego without any reservations. "You and I need to sort our shit out."

He startles at the abrasiveness, but doesn't show it, rolling back in his chair and screwing up the foil in his hand—delivering a perfect shot into the bin. "Agreed." A few weeks ago he would have denied the fact, but his ignorance has cost him too much lately, and he pushes up, settling on a middle-ground. "Whiskey, okay?"

She cocks her head as he moves to his decanter. "So you can compromise?"

"I _can_, I just don't." He moves towards where she seats herself on his leather couch, pouring them each a drink. She folds one leg over the other as he finishes tipping the amber liquid, and he sets the crystal between them, lowering himself opposite her. Honestly, before all the shit went down with Robert, he was actually starting to enjoy working with her, and after everything that's happened recently, he's been thinking of reaching out. The fact she got in first just mirrors their similarities, and he pushes her glass over, not flinching when she takes an easy shot.

"Then why did you let Faye take Robert's name off the wall? The accusation might not be the right place to start, but she's no longer ashamed to show her hurt. Her former mentor had been like a father figure to her, and she can understand Harvey wanting to protect the firm, but after everything Robert did for him personally—for him to then roll over like a dog, is nothing short of plain disrespectful.

Harvey scrubs his jaw, having no response to her anger, or not one that can fully justify his actions. He doesn't like to admit when he's wrong—prides himself on avoiding and skirting around blame, but this time he did fuck up. He'd let what was happening in his head at the time cloud his judgement, and he has no excuses, welcoming the burn of whiskey as it scolds his throat, before he meets her gaze with actual regret. "You're right, I'm sorry."

The cowardly admission furthers her anger, and she stiffens, pulling her lips into a thin line. "Excuse me?"

He draws his brows together, bristling at her tone, and biting back tersely. "_What_?" he challenges. " I was apologizing."

"That's the problem," she snaps, realizing Alex really was right—they've all lost themselves. Because five minutes after walking through the door to the firm, she'd learnt Harvey doesn't say 'sorry' and if he's doing it now, then maybe they really are screwed. "I didn't think you knew how?" she pushes, holding his gaze.

"I don't turn my back on people like you or Robert," he declares, even though the statement reinforces his guilt because he let Faye come in and take over. He'd initially put up a fight, but had cowered the second things became too hard, because he'd been chasing an escape. But he wasn't the only one to let things fall apart. Samantha could have approached him any time—like Donna used to—and he lashes out, driven by anger. "Make jokes, I don't give a _shit_, but show some _goddamn _respect."

She doesn't flinch, the aggression something she was trying to each thrive on brutal honesty—and the Harvey Specter she knows, doesn't sit around on his ass feeling sorry for himself. "Good. Now we're getting somewhere." He glares across at her, and she steels herself, giving an inch. "I didn't handle myself in the best way, either."

"That an apology?" he quips dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"More like an observation." She doesn't apologise either, but she can concede they're in trouble, and she sinks back with a sigh. "We lost Robert's clients."

He nods, his anger depleting as her tone switches from frustrated to disappointed. Robert's clients weren't just names on a page to her, they were a legacy that meant something, but she's been fighting like hell to save their reputation, and it's time he stepped up to the plate. "We'll get them back." He takes a sip of whiskey, swallowing it down—the burn helping him give recognition where it's due. "Keep crushing cashes, they'll be barging through the door."

A faint smile touches her mouth, not refuting the compliment. "Hell hath no fury..." She murmurs with a shrug, half-bating, half-sincere as she lifts her glass pointing it at him. "Just imagine what we could achieve if you put a skirt on."

He scoffs at the back-handed olive branch but she's right. They need to assert themselves, stop letting Faye-fucking-Richardson run the show. "We need a game plan. I'll talk to Louis..."

"And I'll get Alex on-board," she answers. reading what he's thinking, noting how he doesn't pick up on Donna's name as it slips through the cracks. His relationship with the firm's COO has been a mystery to her since the day she started, but the redhead is the reason Samantha had turned herself around, and she finishes her drink, drawing a line between her concern and getting involved. "What about Donna?"

He stiffens, not sure Donna would have any interest in forming a coup right now, but he suspects that's not what Samantha's implying, the assumption confirmed by her low warning.

'Someone needs to talk to her."

"Louis is handling it," he responds gruffly, not sure how else to address the situation. Politics—he can run rings around. _Emotions_… They're what landed him in this mess int he first place, and he forces them down, firming his jaw. "She'll be fine."

He doesn't sound convinced, but Samantha doesn't push the observation. It's not her place to question his trust in Louis—that's something he needs to decide for himself, and she pushes herself up, focusing on what the two of them can fix together.

Starting with the firm.

* * *

AN: Argh, and finally it's done! I know there wasn't a whole lot of Donna and Harvey in this chapter but the next one is all them :D Also I hope I'm not making Donna out to be too much of a b*tch... I'm trying to keep her in character as much as possible. Plus I think this may be the longest chapter of anything I've ever written so apologies in advance for any errors. I'm pretty sure I have the same attention span as one of Louis' cats haha.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII.**

Harvey glances up as Donna steps into his office with a file in hand, her lips pale as they purse together, but he swallows his worry with a brief acknowledgement. "Thanks."

She forces a smile, meeting him half-way with the gesture, as she places the folder down on his desk. Regardless of the tension simmering between them, they still need to be professional, and she points to the green highlighted tabs sticking out the side of the document. "You'll need those pages for the deposition Thursday."

"Louis get a copy?" he asks, the eyebrow she raises in answer feeling nostalgic to him. Twelve years, and she's never missed a beat, but her work ethic isn't the problem. Louis had sought him out a few hours ago, before the office had emptied itself, claiming Donna had admitted to being run down and she'd made plans to see a doctor on Friday. He hadn't bought the assurance, calling the GP they share to check, and wasn't surprised when they'd found no record of an appointment. He's been sitting on the information, not sure what to do with it, but her gaunt features prompt him to go out on a limb. "How was lunch?"

"It was—_nice_, Harvey." She doesn't intend on engaging the question any further. The day has been excruciating long already, and she just wants to go home—turning on her heel to drive her closer to the goal.

"Which part, exactly?" he queries, slapping the folder down. The sound makes her stop, and confronting her like this hadn't been his plan, but concern fuels the need to voice the details Louis had been worryingly calm about. "The salad you barely touched or the entire hour you spent lying to Louis?"

She doesn't acknowledge the comment, keeping her back to him, and his eyes rake over her bony shoulders, not sorry he's letting his mouth override his brain. Unlike Louis, he's not an idiot, and he pushes up from his chair, standing at full height. "Honestly, I want to know... Humor me."

His arrogance sparks her anger, and she spins around, her eyes accusing as they narrow across the room. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me," he challenges, moving to the front of his desk and leaning against it, firming his jaw. He's done beating around the bush. If she can't be honest with the people trying to help her, then he'll fill in the blanks for her. "You came up with some bullshit about the flu to get Louis off your back, and now he thinks you're best friends again, so everything's fine, right?"

Guilt tightens her chest, but she refuses to admit there's any truth to the accusation. Harvey wasn't even there, and her relationship with Louis—or how she handles it—is none of his _goddamn _business. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

"No, _Donna_... What I am, is scared shitless," he snaps, biting his palms into the edge of the glass beneath him. Louis had reached out, and she'd manipulated him, no two ways about it. The Donna he knows would _never _do that to someone she cares about, but he can barely recognize the woman standing in front of him, and too much air fills his lungs in an effort to defend his position. "You lied to Louis, and I know _you_ know that—because you haven't tried denying it once."

Heat flushes her skin, trapped by his logic, and dizzy without an escape. But so what if she'd bent the truth? He did the exact same thing when he spun some bullshit story about his feelings to Louis first and a bitter sound coils in her throat as she fires back at him. "You want to talk about lying?" she asks, daring him to push her, and his confused shrug tips her over the edge. "Fine, let's talk about how you showed up at my door in the middle of the night to tell me you _love _me."

Adrenaline pumps a rush of panic through his body and—_fuck_. He's going to kill Louis. He should have known the moron wouldn't be able to keep his goddamn mouth shut. That he'd find a way to make everything ten times worse, and he scrubs his face, willing forward an explanation. "Donna—"

"_No_," she snaps, not in the mood to hear his excuse. Whatever he'd been trying to accomplish, all he did was manage to destroy the last thread of trust that had been stretched beyond its limits between them. "You're a hypocrite, Harvey. So don't you dare stand there and—"

"I did." He clears his throat, the sudden dryness searing a path into his sternum. She can't accuse him of being a hypocrite without all the facts, and he fights through the fear and embarrassment clutching his chest, pushing himself off the desk. "I went to see you that night, and Louis was right about why."

She stumbles over herself, taking an instinctive step back as he nears her, terrified and angry—not sure how to process what he's saying. Wondering if it would make a difference if she could. They've been here too many times, poised on a half-confession, and when he reaches out, she pulls sharply away from the movement. "Don't touch me."

His hand snaps back, his heart beating like a drum as the little colour left in her face washes away. This is why he hadn't told her. Because he was afraid it would send her running in the opposite direction, when she needs help. He can handle the rejection, so long as she's still prepared to listen, and forces his ego aside with a soft exhale. "I'm sorry."

The apology doesn't explain anything, and spots haze her vision as the air thins around her. She'd found a way to move on, to bury all the hurt they've caused each other over the years, and she can feel herself starting to drown in the uncertainty again, being pulled under by empty words that don't mean anything. If he'd cared that much, he wouldn't have spent weeks pushing her away, and she chokes on her anger, the sound leaving her mouth as a strained plea. "I can't—"

He flinches, swearing under his breath when she flees faster than he's expecting, and he moves to follow her, narrowly avoiding the door when she swings it back. He catches the glass, pushing around it as he chases after her. "Donna, _wait_."

She ignores him calling out, but can feel him a few steps behind when she's hit by a rush of white hot dizziness that makes the corridor spin. Her palm lands flush against the wall, attempting to keep the floor in place as she wills herself to stay upright.

"Donna?" Concern jams in his throat as he fumbles a nervous hand against the small of her back. "Easy, take a breath."

She shakes her head, her chest too tight to follow the instruction, and a flurry of panic sends her heart drilling into her ribcage. She doesn't know if she's going to be sick or pass out, but she needs air, and scrambles to get clear of him.

Her knees buckle the and he catches her around the waist, fear hurtling through him as she weakly clings to his shirt. "It's okay... I've got you." She hums something, a groggy insistence that she's fine, and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek.

Like _hell _she is.

He's taking most of her weight, what little there seems to be, but she stubbornly rights herself, and he eyes the boardroom, keeping his hand pressed to her side as he guides her towards it. She's unsteady on too high heels, and doesn't argue—tell him she's not completely back with it yet, and he pulls out the nearest chair, guiding her down. "Stay here, I'll get you some water."

Her cheeks burn with embarrassment as he steps from the room, tears springing to her gaze as she keeps trying to blink away the fog threatening to drown her, and for a moment she thinks about leaving. Getting as far away from him, the firm, and everything else as possible. But she's hit by the almost painful realization that Harvey's not going to let her, and she wouldn't get far in her current state if she tried.

She thought she was in control but she isn't, and she sinks her head met by a wave of hopelessness.

She pushed too hard, not enough food and too little sleep causing her to lash out and she doesn't know what to do. She's lost, and her breath hitches as she wipes the tears spilling across her cheeks, forcing as much composure as she can when his shadow suddenly appears beneath her. She's _Donna_. She's supposed to be stronger than this and sweeps her hair back to look at him, stopping at the pained expression twisting his features. In his office, she'd taken offense to the hardness, not willing to believe fear was the root cause, but right now he seems almost as broken as she is, his hand trembling as he offers her the glass. She takes it, the liquid cool as it easies her dry throat, and she shuts her eyes, breathing out slowly. "Thanks."

He's in no way comforted by the softer tone, unable to land himself anywhere that's not irate frustration or desperate worry. Seeing her like this is killing him, and his voice catches as he pleads with her. "I want to fix this, Donna, but I don't know what to do—I don't know how."

She can hear the pain vibrating in his throat, and when she finds his gaze, it's glistening with moisture. The only time she's ever seen him like this was when his father passed away, and the truth behind his emotions hammers through her, everything she's been afraid of facing surging up, and she's too exhausted to force it back down. "What happened that night?"

It's the veer he's been dreading, not because he's embarrassed or ashamed but because he doesn't want her to think he's speaking out to comfort her. He'd used that excuse when she'd questioned how he loved her, unable to answer at the time. But now he can. "I thought I was going to lose everything at that hearing and then I didn't. I won, but the only thing I felt was empty because you weren't there." He stops, giving pause to his regret. The fact she'd been seeing someone hadn't even occurred to him, not until Kessler had answered the door, but the relationship didn't change his reason for showing up—it had simply voided it. "I went to see you because it all finally made sense but then I saw Thomas and I couldn't do that to you, Donna. I thought you were happy, so I didn't say anything. I pushed you away, but I never meant to hurt you. I swear that's the truth."

He swipes his eyes, and she can feel her own tears forming again. There's no mistaking the vulnerability resting in his expression. He's genuinely scared, and for the first time in weeks, she can almost admit that she is too. "I let everybody down." Her guilt falls out as a murmur, the weight she's been feeling hitting hard as she finally accepts the real reason behind her spiral. She didn't even try to make things right. She just gave up and doesn't know if she can pick herself up and find her way back from that.

Doesn't know if she even has the strength to try.

"Donna, listen to me—" he finds his voice with more confidence "—you haven't let anybody down." She didn't, and the fact she even thinks that makes his heart ache. He knows people rely on her too much. He's taken her for granted too many times himself, but that says more about him than it does about her. "None of what's happening is your fault."

She wants to believe him but can't. If she hadn't told Thomas what was going on, if she'd listened to her heart over her head, Robert wouldn't have been disbarred, and Faye wouldn't be shitting all over their reputation. It's a hard truth to bear, but it's a fact, and she clutches the glass between her hands with a heavy sigh. "Then why do I feel like this?"

The admittance is more than he's expecting, and for the first time since this mess started, he puts faith in his instincts, prising the water from her numb fingers and placing it on the edge of the table. She looks confused by the action but he follows through with the motion, lifting his thumb to rest lightly against the side of her knee. Not applying too much pressure, but enough to let her know he isn't going anywhere. "Because you're exhausted," he points out softly. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you're making decisions right now that are clouding your judgment." He doesn't know how else to phrase the physical strain she's putting on herself, hesitant to bring up specifics, but he does know she's hurting herself, and it's not going to stop until she's ready to face the fact there's a problem. "I think you should speak to someone… About why you're not eating."

"I am—"

"_Donna_." She tenses, immediately moving to pull away from him, but he's quick to show there's no judgment behind the suggestion. Instead, he grasps her wrist lightly, his large hand swapping her tiny frame, and he holds it between them, pushing her to accept the difference he can see. "You don't have to talk about it with me, but I need you to promise you'll think about making an appointment, please."

She nods, taking the out—because it means he'll let the subject drop. She has enough swirling around her head, and it's all too much to deal with, but things don't seem quite as bleak as they did, and when he insists on taking her home, she doesn't argue. She's willing to loosen the reins on her control because in spite of everything she's been trying to prove to herself, she can't keep following the path she's spiralling down.

No matter how badly she'd thought she wanted to.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII.**

Harvey stifles a yawn around his coffee, the morning light glaring through the large bay windows as he squints, taking in the sunrise. He feels lighter but there's still unease resting in his stomach, not sure if what happened last night with Donna was a turning point or just breaking point. Either way, he's torn between his concern and small waves of relief, glad that something has changed but not sure it's enough. She'd been quiet the entire ride to her apartment, insisting she was fine to see herself up, and it hadn't been an outright dismissal but he'd stayed in the car anyway scared of pushing too much at once.

He'd let her go, despite his hesitation—the feeling twisting inside him as a sharp knock disrupts the silence. His eyebrows lift in confusion, his feet padding across the polished floorboards and his cup landing on the kitchen isle as he moves to answer the door. It's still early, beyond what most people would call a reasonable hour, and he opens it, somewhat comfortable with the surprise that creases his brow. "Mike... What are you doing here?"

Mike stands with a loose smirk, fists balling his pockets, having already anticipated the reaction. It's not like they never talk, but lately things have slipped and he knows he's played a part in letting the distance between NYC and Seattle gain a foothold. With all the shit that's been happening at his old firm he'd given Harvey space to figure it out but when opportunity had slapped him upside the head he'd taken it, deciding what better way to get things on track than a new case and some friendly rivalry between comrades. "Question is what weren't you doing here last night?" He asks mischievously, drawing his hand out in a swinging motion, "I was waiting here for like an hour."

"You ever heard of a phone?" Harvey quips, still perplexed by the unannounced arrival. Maybe it's the lack of sleep he's had or the fact his thoughts have been focused elsewhere, but he's almost certain he didn't have this date marked as anything special or noteworthy in his calendar.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing." The banter falls naturally into place, but it hits a wall as Mike takes in Harvey's palm jammed against the wooden frame. When he'd realized the man wasn't home yesterday he'd tried calling multiple times without any success and his gaze narrows as Harvey takes a step back, the same hand rubbing tiredly across his jawline with an apologetic frown.

"Shit, Mike... I'm sorry." For once there's no sarcasm behind the tone as he invites the kid in. He'd seen the missed calls right before exhaustion had plunged him into bed and he'd completely forgotten about them this morning, a light flush working its way up beneath his tightly knotted collar. "Donna wasn't feeling well..." He explains loosely, deft fingers closing the door with the easiest version of the truth, "I wanted to make sure she got home okay."

Mike turns on his heel as he edges into the kitchen, the mention of the redhead stalling his good natured ribbing. The last time they had spoken it was because of Donna, the fact she hadn't been returning Rachel's calls, and he'd bought the excuse about her just being overworked but now he's here, the two of them face to face, his worry quickly pushes to the surface. "Is everything okay?"

"Tell you the truth..." Harvey shakes his head letting the motion speak for itself as he seeks out his cup clasping a firm grip around its weight.

Truth is, he's scared, and it's not something he's accustomed to feeling. He knows anxiety, has felt concern but the two have never collided like they are now and he bites the inside of his lip wishing he knew how to ground himself in the middle.

"Things haven't gotten any better?" Mike queries, making himself at home in the small space if only to diffuse the tension. Donna is different. That's something he learned early on. He knows to tread carefully and finds a mug, moving to the jug of percolated coffee and tipping the steaming liquid as Harvey breaks the silence with a heavy sigh.

"Not exactly." He lifts his own beverage, the caffeinated drink lukewarm and missing the sweetness of vanilla. It's something he's forgone lately, choosing the bitterness of an espresso to wake him up instead, and his gaze falls to the man opening the fridge in search of milk. Over the phone it had been easy to make light of how badly things had started spiraling but this is an outlet, one he's surprisingly in need of, and he lets go of the fear he's been holding onto letting the details spill out freely, "we were working late on a deposition yesterday... she passed out, and I—" he hesitates not able to bring himself to admit that he'd forced Donna into a confrontation. It doesn't matter what was said, the facts are the same, but he still dips his head as Mike's curious expression probes him.

"She fainted?" he asks, trying to draw a picture of what Harvey's describing. It feels like a lifetime ago when Rachel had suffered a similar spell from exhaustion and he'd been beside himself with worry, but Donna isn't Rachel and he's not Harvey. There's something he's missing and frustration coils around his tone as he sets aside the carton in his hand. "Okay... What the hell is going on?"

Harvey flinches, the question leaving no room to navigate around it and he stares blankly, not even sure where to start. The firm has fallen into chaos, they've all been at each other's throats for weeks and now they're actually trying, Donna isn't there. She's supposed to be the one who rallies them and regret hammers in his chest, relishing a time when he didn't care so much but the problem is; he always has.

Ever since the night she'd introduced herself his heart has been at home with hers and he lets instinct guide him to what's most important, his voice tight as he brings the porcelain mug down to rest on the counter. "She isn't sleeping, doesn't eat... It's been like this for weeks and I don't know what to do anymore."

The honesty is abrasive as is the defeat in Mike's former mentor's shoulders but his own fear for Donna is curbed by a rush of frustration, "Harvey, I've been in Seattle not goddamn Tibet. You didn't think to call?"

"It's been… complicated." The defense isn't an excuse and guilt clamps Harvey's chest as he palms the bench. He should have been upfront right from the beginning, but pride had warped his concern. He'd wanted to protect Donna but at the same time he couldn't admit he'd fucked up, that he couldn't handle everything spinning out of control, and he winces at the look Mike shoots his way—the kid reading him like an open book.

"What aren't you telling me?" He asks, needing to move them passed this allusive crap. He knows the firm has been up shit creek, but they've clawed their back from the brink before. What's tipping his worry is that he's never seen Harvey this fragile and if what he's saying about Donna is true, it's no wonder the man seems just as close to breaking himself.

Harvey peels himself back, taking in Mike's direct approach and realizing he can't avoid the truth any longer. Suppressing his feelings hasn't worked so far and when he'd voiced them last night the world hadn't come to a cataclysmic halt like he'd half been expecting it to. This can't be any worse than that and he lifts his gaze, blowing air nervously out from his cheeks, "I told her how I feel."

There's a weight behind the statement that plummets their surroundings into silence, Mike's eyes widening slightly at the confession and not because he's surprised.

He isn't, a Haleigh-fucking-Lu-Ya pressing against his lips but he doesn't vocalize it. He'll rib Harvey to the ends of the goddamn earth when this is all sorted, but right now he just wants to get his head wrapped around the situation. "When?" He asks, finally finding the milk and splashing it into his coffee. Lord knows he needs caffeine but knowing Harvey like he does his mouth winds around a more specific approach, "and what exactly did you say to her?"

Harvey takes a step, expelling a rush of anxiety as he paces the short distance. He wants to get it out but words have never been his strong suit, especially surrounding matters of the heart but he's already committed himself and he focuses on what he's feeling not what he's afraid of saying. "I went to see her after my hearing. I just... Knew, you know? But Thomas answered the door—I wasn't thinking." Heat flushes his face as he slows his momentum. He would never have intentionally jeopardized her relationship, but he'd been blindsided and he swipes a palm around his neck, stilling his feet. "I left… She didn't even know I was there, but yesterday she found out—thought it was some sort of misunderstanding… So I told her it wasn't, that things had changed for me." He turns back to Mike with a defense ready on his lips. "I know it was shitty timing but I figured if I told her the truth, she might start listening, trusting me again."

Too many emotions flicker across Harvey's expression for Mike to pinpoint how Donna reacted to the confession. Before he would've expected her to be happy about the revelation, but from everything Harvey's said, he can't even begin to get inside her head and he murmurs to himself as he turns the information over. "Wow, okay…" In the very least, Harvey's actions are starting to make more sense. The man may have a lot of redeeming qualities but when it comes to his emotions he's like a baby fawn stumbling around on new legs, and he's starting to understand why Harvey didn't come clean earlier. "You didn't say anything cause this whole time you've been—"

_Realizing he's in love with her._

Mike waves his wrist with the implication, and Harvey bows sheepishly over the counter, not needing to hear it out loud or say anything back to confirm what's glaringly obvious. What he does need is for Mike to move past it because this isn't about him; it's about Donna and making sure she's really okay. "I just want to do the right thing by her, that's all."

His voice is unusually soft and Mike doesn't doubt the claim for a second. Harvey's proved more than once he'll do anything to protect her, even if that means sacrificing his own needs first, but after hearing everything that's happened Mike's hopeful it won't come to that. "Whatever I can do, I'm here."

Harvey's both relieved and grateful until it occurs to him he doesn't know why the kid is here. Mike wouldn't just turn up out of the blue for nothing and he nods steeling himself against the wariness pitted in his stomach. They're a family and he trusts Mike's instincts, right now more than his own, and he pushes his questions aside, taking the younger man up on his offer. "I told her to take the day..."

It's an open-ended statement but Mike reads into it, swallowing a large sip of coffee. He's not going to drop his client, but he will concede to putting the case and the reason behind his visit on hold so they can focus on what's important. "I'll come by the firm after I've checked on her."

"Thanks Mike." A small smile touches Harvey's lips, genuine in his appreciation and letting everything else be for the moment. He might have a lot of regrets, but hiring Mike has never been one of them.

He just needs Donna to see that too.

.

.

* * *

**AN:**_ I'm sorry, I know it's a bit on the short side but I haven't planned ahead from here :P I had the last chapter written but then I thought the story deserved more so I'm winging it! :) xx_


	9. Chapter 9

IX.

Donna's half asleep on the sofa, a repeat of Oprah muffled in the background, but she pays no attention to the sound as it drifts through her apartment. She's too tired, her body demanding rest, but she's still unable to switch off completely—Harvey's words circling round her semi-conscious state. He hadn't professed his feelings outright, but she can't deny his intent wasn't clear—he wants more. He'd knelt before her, revelaing a side of himself she'd never seen before, and heat rushes her skin, making the cold around her more pronounced. She shivers, trying to bury her thoughts beneath the blanket pulled up to her chin. A few minutes rest, that's all she needs, and her eyes drift closed again—snapping open when a loud sound disrupts the apartment.

She inwardly groans at the intrusion, but the knocking persists, and she tries to curb her frustration as she untangles herself, assuming it's Harvey stopping by to check up on her. She knows his heart is in the right place and steals a deep breath to steady herself, toeing slow steps toward the door. Her fingers find the latch, and she pulls the handle down, confused when Mike's timid smile comes into view. He's the last person she was expecting to see, and she grips the door-frame, not sure what to say.

"Hey." He tries to act like seeing her isn't awkward, but it is. The last time he saw her was at his wedding, and the change Harvey warned him about is undeniable. She isn't just thinner. Her face is hollowed with exhaustion, and he fights the urge to let his concern show, clearing his throat. He's under-prepared, the box of cup-a-soup in his hand falling to the side. It was meant as a gesture—something to break the ice—but it seems inadequate now, and he doesn't bother trying to utilize the prop. "I heard you weren't feeling well."

The explination adds to her confusion, and she pushes through the fog clouding her brain. She might not be at the top of her game, but last time she checked, the husband of her best-friend lived in Seattle and she's wary as she tries to piece together why Mike's standing at her door. "Is that all Harvey said?" Guilt flickers across his expression, and she knows she's right with the assumption. For someone who spent years being a fraud, she can only marvel at how he'd managed to avoid being prosecuted sooner—the thought harsh, but fueling her deisre to ignore the reason he's crowding the space outside her door.

"Donna, wait." He palms the door keeping it open without any difficulty. Right now she doesn't look like she could go ten rounds with a moth but he stays where he is out of respect because he understands her hesitation. There's always been a taboo around her relationship with Harvey but honestly he's not here to talk about that. He genuinely just wants to make sure she's okay and leads with the one thing he hopes might be an easier in. "I came because of Rachel."

The comment catches her attention, her eyes narrowing with more confusion and he tries to dial things back, uncomplicate the reason he showed up unannounced. "I mean technically I'm here on a case... but she wanted me to check in."

Guilt knots in her chest at the mention of her best—friend. They haven't spoken in nearly a month and it's been another fear gnawing at her; that they won't be able to fix everything that went wrong between them. She'd thought she could handle it. That it was just some else to leave behind but standing here now, faced with Mike, concern bubbles up from a place that hasn't gone anywhere much less been forgotten about. "Is she okay?"

It's a flash of the Donna he knows, the fiercely protective woman who would move heaven and earth for the people she cares about and she might not be herself right now but that's even more of a reason to be honest. "She's worried about you and I really don't want you to kill me for saying this... but I've seen Harold after a night out drinking tequila and you look about five times worse."

"I'm fine." It falls out flatly against his humor, not fooling either of them, and her fingers loosen their grip in defeat. "I'll call her."

He nods but the assurance isn't enough to make him leave. She's always had a strong guard. Not quite as high as Harvey's but when he'd first started at Pearson Hardman he's not ashamed to admit he'd been a little scared of the power she could wield over people. It was confronting at times but she'd always been fair, if not occasionally brutal when he'd needed it and now it's his turn to repay the favor. "Donna, come on... I think I've bought you enough triple nonfat sugar-free mocha latte's over years to at least get an invite in."

She's quickly losing the willpower to match his stubbornness and angles her head with a sigh, too tired to keep arguing. "I regret ever being nice to you."

"Nice, that's really what you're going with?" He raises an eyebrow, pushing down the urge to reach out when she takes a wobbly step but she rights herself almost instantly, curving her arms around her stomach and moving to let him in.

"I'm confused, is this a pity part for me or you?" She asks, keeping up the light banter. It's better than acknowledging why he's really here and she's relieved when he engages back.

"Me but I can put you on the guest list." He jokes, welcoming himself into the apartment with a small smile. A few days ago he'd told Rachel she was worrying over nothing, that Donna was probably just taking some time, and he's frustrated that Harvey sugar-coated how bad things are but he doesn't let it show as he stalls by her couch. "You want a drink or anything?"

She shakes her head, shifting the pile of blankets, sweeping them back to make more room. "I'm fine but help yourself."

He leaves the soup on the counter deciding against anything for himself. He's already had too much coffee as it is, gearing himself up to see her, and he sits down palms splaying across his thighs. "So..." he glances across at her, a wary eyebrow lifting to ease the tension that he knows the question will bring. "You want to tell me what's really been going on?"

She winces, not in the least inclined to talk about it, not even sure where she'd start and she folds her legs up changing the subject. "Is she pissed?"

"Who Rach?" He frowns at the short nod confirming his guess, his tone completely serious as it falls between them. "She's not angry Donna, I told you... she's worried—"

"How's Robert?" She deflects again, wringing her fingers together with a rush of nerves. Bringing up the man who sacrificed everything for the firm is nearly just as bad but she needs to know the truth no matter how hard it is to hear.

"He's happy." It's genuinely the first description that comes to mind when summing up the man's retirement. Robert had seemed unburdened during his visit, a little too relaxed with both Rachel's parents indulging in a stay-vacation longer than expected but if Donna's looking to justify her guilt, neither himself or any other member of the Zane clan are going to do that for her. "Robert wanted this..." he pauses to clarify, "maybe not in the way it all came out but he doesn't regret the decision."

Her shoulders slump with relief, a weight she hadn't even realized lifting as she sinks into the cushions. It wasn't her place to call Robert up out of the blue and ask, especially since she hadn't even gone to the hearing and she'd strayed away from discussing it with Rachel. The closet she'd ventured was trying to explain about her ex but her friend's advice is still vivid in her mind, one of the reasons she hadn't tried reaching out again. "She seemed annoyed when I told her about Thomas."

The observance is quiet and Mike leans forward on not able to dispute it. There had been an adjustment period in the beginning but only because Rachel had been concerned over her father's choice. She'd been frustrated at how things had turned out but had never once blamed Donna or Harvey. If she'd been short it was only because her feelings weren't something easy to reconcile with over the phone and he's almost certain it would have been different if they'd still been living in NYC but rather than get in the middle of it he answers with his own curiosity. "Why did you break up?"

She swallows roughly, not wanting to go into detail but surprisingly not as hesitant to open up. She hasn't talked to anyone about it, not since her failed attempt with Rachel, and she chews on her lip trying to explain it for herself as much as Mike. "He didn't get it... the way everyone was acting, he kept trying to make me feel better but he couldn't." Thomas had been adamant she wasn't to blame, smothering her with concern but she'd set the wheels into motion. It was her fault, he was just the only one who couldn't see it. "I knew it was hurting him so I ended things."

She pushed him away— that's what Mike takes from the account and not just Thomas, she'd shut everyone out.

That's how things have gotten this bad and he wants to be pissed that people had lashed out but he also knows how easily tempers fire around his old firm. Donna was usually the one keeping them in check and someone should've stepped in but he also knows actress trumps lawyer. If she didn't want people figuring it out they wouldn't have but what's important now is moving her passed everything that happened.

"Donna you didn't set out to hurt anyone..." he says it softly, finding her gaze, "don't you think you've beaten yourself up enough over what happened?"

Has she?

Maybe... but it's not that simple.

Faye's still there, a constant reminder that they're all still under scrutiny and even if she wanted to put everything behind her what if too much has already changed? It's not the same firm Mike left behind and she's not sure how to salvage something that isn't there anymore.

He can see the hesitation sweep across her expression, the regret, and he knows exactly how she's feeling because he's been there himself. He's made mistakes that have cost the people around him but that just proves no situation is hopeless even if the answer isn't always easy. "I spent three years being a fake-lawyer digging myself into hole—" he shrugs, hoping his own short-comings can hold some retribution, "if there was a way out of that then anything is possible."

"You went to prison." She points out blatantly, clasping her wrists together with the slightest hint of smirk, "and orange would clash with my hair."

A chuckle hums at his lips, grateful she's actually listening and his mind unconsciously returns to Harvey's earlier concern.

He's never seen both of his friends so unsure of themselves.

Even when he was doing time Harvey had found a way to reconcile with his guilt and he knows Donna would've played a part in that. When they're on the same page they're an unstoppable force but when they're not the consequences can be devastating and he tentatively risks venturing into the inevitable minefield that's resting between them. "I know I said I wouldn't mention this—"

"Then don't." She shifts awkwardly, her heart beating a little faster as he eyes her obviously weighing up how far to push the topic. Talking about Thomas is one thing. It's in the past, over... but the situation with Harvey is still a mess in her head and she drops Mike's name in warning, urging him not to bring it up.

"He wants to be there for you." It rushes out despite her caution because he's worried about both of them. She'd once told him that two people need to want to be together for them to be happy and Harvey's there. He'd seen it written clearly beneath the man's turmoil but if Donna isn't then he's scared it could tip them over the edge. "If that's not what you want, then you have to tell him."

She sucks in a shallow breath, her stomach knotting with the same unresolved tension that's been plaguing her.

Figure out what she wants.

After Harvey's confession it should be simple and her chest aches recalling his soft words and the feelings stirred along with them. She loves him but is terrified of accessing those emotions, not sure how to peel back the layers of shame and fear. She doesn't want to lose him but doesn't want to hurt him either and she swipes at the corner of her eye, leaning into her palm with a broken sigh. "What if we screw it up?"

He can hear the desperation behind the uncertainty and he's sympathetic but also reassured, a small smile cresting his lips. So long as she's open to the possibility of trying then that's all that matters because he'd seen Harvey's determination this morning. Wild horses couldn't drag him away and for someone who's spent two thirds of his life afraid to commit— that tells Mike everything he needs to know. "He's ready Donna, he's not going anywhere." He watches the truth register in the slight curve of her mouth and he takes the opportunity to place some normality back between them, "besides... how much more screwed up can things really get?"

A huff of amusement catches in spite of herself and she breathes it out, blinking tiredly trying to come up with something witty in response but his phone vibrates first, saving her from the effort.

"Speak of the devil." He glances at Harvey's name on the screen, his former mentor's impatience not surprising, and he slips the device back into his pocket. "I should probably be getting over there."

She nods, curious about the case he's here for but the questions stay poised on her tongue as he pushes up. Right now all she wants to do is sleep, suddenly feeling able without quite as many thoughts circling and when he squeezes her shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head she manages a genuine smile.

"Feel better, okay."

He pulls back returning the warm gesture as he moves to see himself out but it slips as he closes the door behind him. He's starting to understand Harvey's predicament and why the man didn't come forward with his concern. He knows he needs to tell Rachel, he just isn't sure how much to relay— not wanting to send her into a panic while he isn't there but he can't stand the idea of lying either.

Donna is her best friend and she's clearly not okay but he has every confidence she will be.

Because if nothing else, he's not leaving until he makes sure of it.


	10. Chapter 10

**X.**

Harvey rakes a hand through his hair, feet moving with purpose towards the car waiting as the remnants of his conversation with Samantha roll around in time with his heavy steps. She was pissed, and he gets it. They'd agreed to work as a team going forward, but he'd been admittedly distracted while she and Mike were going head to head over Jeremy Wall. His focus kept drifting to Donna, concerned that she'd taken another day off even though he's glad she did. Her health needs to come first and even despite his slight neglect toward the case Samantha had fought hard enough for the both of them; it just wasn't enough.

Mike had brought everything to table, played the man and won.

It's something they have to accept, and he climbs into the Lexus, instructing Ray to Donna's apartment.

He hasn't seen her since she was last in the office and he checks the time deciding it's not late enough that he needs to call, half afraid that she'll tell him not to bother if he does. Mike had said she'd been initially hesitant to talk, and he isn't sure what to expect, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't try. If he's learnt anything from his former protege—particularly today—it's that having emotions can be just as powerful in achieving a win and even though he'd tried to gloss over it with Samantha, he is proud of the kid.

That's why he ordered her to drop it. Not only because of Faye, but because it was the right thing to do. He won't lie and say that (on a professional level) the timing hasn't sucked or that his and Samantha's relationship is better off for it but he's relieved to have Mike on his side at the moment. With everything going on his best friend had agreed to stay a couple of extra days and Harvey's hoping that now the trial is over with they can find some time to catch up properly.

It hasn't exactly been the easiest of weeks but he breathes out calmly, feeling a weight slip from his shoulders as they pass quickly through the traffic. He doesn't want to jinx anything, but it finally feels like he's gaining traction and when they arrive at Donna's he tells Ray to give him ten minutes, then head home for the night. Either way it's not going to take long to gauge the situation, and he steels himself, making his way up to her apartment.

He arrives with four concise knocks, his confidence holding steady as he reads the gold numbers that have brought him equal amounts of joy and pain over the years. Every time he's shown up here they've never quite gotten it right, but he wants that to change and when she appears he's relieved to see a little more color to her cheeks, his mouth relaxing with a soft smile. "Hey."

"Hi." She focuses with a couple of blinks, feeling a small surge of relief that it's Harvey standing there and not anyone else. Although she'd appreciated Mike stopping by—his visit had genuinely helped—she's too tired to put on any more fronts, and with Harvey she doesn't feel the need to. Not since they'd both opened up showing their vulnerable sides. He knows her better than anyone, has been there even when she was trying her hardest to push him away, and Mike was right—it's time to stop punishing herself for what happened, and start trusting her instincts again. "You want to come in?" she asks, taking half a step back. Not being presumptuous, but giving him space to decide.

He wasn't anticipating the invite, was hopeful maybe... and his lips curve in response. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Her eyes mirror his relief and he crosses over, closing the door behind him, not bothering with the latch. Instead he tugs the knot around his neck, fingers sliding down the satin as he follows her slow footfall into the living area. It seems like forever since he's been welcomed into her place, and he takes in the renovated decor with a new appreciation. It suits her, but he can't be sure it's a recent change, so he refrains from making a comment, his gaze landing where she stops by the sofa.

She's not quite bracing herself, but is leaning her weight against the white leather, and he almost feels bad for intruding, but now he's here it's an opportunity to try and get an honest answer out of her. "How are you feeling?"

His eyes wash over her more intently, urging the truth, and she gives a small shrug in response. "A bit achy... but okay." She hadn't felt good about taking another day off work, and hasn't really reaped any rewards. She'd woken up feeling like she was getting over a week-long drinking bender, but she plays the discomfort down, more concerned with what she's been missing. "How'd things go with Mike? He said he was here on a case."

"Jeremy Wall wanted out of his contract with Brick Street... Let's just say the kid must have learnt from the best," he quips dryly, jamming a hand into his pocket, because she's Donna and he doesn't need to say anything else.

_They lost._

He's fine with it.

_It's not the end of the world._

She smirks, challenging his candour with an eye-roll which makes him inwardly wince. They've been reading each other for years but the familiarity, the ease between them twists around a pang of regret. He's missed her. They've spent far too long harboring a distance, and his hand twitches, deriving its own courage to reach out, loose fingers clasping her wrist. He swallows, not entirely sure what he's waiting for… but he takes her continued silence as permission to draw her in, sliding his arms around her small frame.

She relaxes into the hold, and he tucks her tightly against his chest feeling her thumbs dig light circles into his shoulder blades. He can't even remember the last time they were comfortable like this, the notion extending beyond the last few months, and his lips brush her hair, absorbing every second of just being neat to her. He can almost see them standing this close in the DA's office—like he's returning to a memory that's been perfectly preserved—and it's as though something has survived through all the complications, misunderstandings and damage they've buried. The tether between them is unbreakable and that thread is why he isn't afraid anymore. Because they change and they grow, occasionally regress, but he's loved her through all of it.

He's in love with her and lets go, seeking out her gaze with the silent release, met with a look he can't decipher—over a decade failing compared to the mystery that is Donna Paulsen. She's an enigma when she chooses to be, and his hand lifts to her cheek, trying to coax an answer out of her. "What am I supposed to do with you, huh?"

She smiles softly at his touch, but the reaction falters under the weight of too many emotions surfacing; not just towards Harvey but Rachel, Mike, Louis, and everyone. She's tried so hard to bury everything, keep it all locked away, but she doesn't want to keep hiding herself, and the clarity hits her with a rush of dizziness—Harvey's hand instantly firming at her back. She wants to tell him it's okay, that she's finding her way back, but the words stick in her throat as he navigates them to the couch.

She's embarrassed, annoyed at the ongoing tiredness she can't seem to shake as her knees buckle at the edge of the sofa—Harvey steering himself into the space beside her. She knows he's worried, can feel it burning through his scrutiny, but he doesn't need to be. She's in a better head-space now, it's just going to take her body a little more time to catch up. "I'm okay, just a bit light-headed."

"I have that effect on women." A smile slips through his concern, the aim to ease her embarrassment, and he knows he's achieved the goal when she relaxes into the cushions, her eyes fixing on him again.

"How about I order us some food. Shitty Thai?" he suggests, the second attempt at humor failing when her mouth pulls into a thin line, and he's overcome with the urge to ask when she last ate something, but encouraging her seems like a more productive route to take. "Donna, you need to eat."

The bluntness resonates, urging her to swallow the nausea rising up. He's right. Sleep alone isn't enough to fuel her body and the headache starting to pulse behind her temples is another reminder she hasn't been taking care of herself, and she resolves to try harder, giving in with a nod. "You're buying."

"Don't I always?" He hooks up an eyebrow, attempting to hide a surge of relief, glad she isn't going to fight him. It might feel like a life-time has passed since she'd been sat in his office, files sprawled between them, while she picked at the food—the first indication something was wrong. But the panic he's been feeling since has been real, and he digs out his phone, holding it between his hands as he finds her gaze with a soft smile. "Usual?"

She nods, her cheeks warming under his gentle expression, and she combs a hand through her hair, suddenly self-conscious about the state of dress she's in. Cleanliness had fallen second to sleep while she's been on leave, but now she feels the need to freshen up, and smiles softly. "Are you okay if I take a quick shower?"

He wavers, a flicker of concern crossing his expression, but that she distracts him from his worry with a convincing smirk. "That wasn't a proposition."

"An invitation?" He knows what she's trying to do and shouldn't engage her, but he has the meal part of their evening handled, if she wants to take a few minutes, he's hardly in a position to argue.

"In your dreams."

"Who told?" He smirks at her, still not convinced she should be attempting the task alone, but the genuine smile that pulls across her mouth almost makes him forget his hesitation.

"You're an idiot." Her stomach flutters as she pushes up, in spite of her body's protest. If he notices the falter, he doesn't mention it, but she assures him just in case. "I'll be quick."

He hangs his head with a reluctant nod, his eyes following her sluggish steps, but he doesn't say anything, waiting until she disappears from view before hitting number seven on his speed-dial. She doesn't need to go to any effort, not for him, but telling her as much would've been a futile attempt. He's taking wins where he can get them and right now that means ordering their food, making sure she eats something, and putting her back to bed.

...

* * *

...

Donna slips beneath the cool spray of water, the stream washing the clammy grime from her skin and it feels good—for a moment, until she turns cold, wracked by shudders, and her hand trembles slightly as she presses the button to increase the temperature. The change is a fleeting respite. Another couple of minutes and she's too hot again, her arms stinging with tiny pinpricks that flush the length of her body. There's no comfortable middle ground, leaving her either sweating or freezing, and she turns off the system, reaching for a towel as she carefully steps out onto the cotton mat. She scrunches her hair with a second towel, ringing the excess droplets of moisture from her wet limp curls. She should have used shampoo, but achieving the bare minimum has already left a strain between her shoulder blades, and she pulls the fluffy fabric around her chest, shivering as she pads out from under the heat lamps.

The air in her room is chilly, and she finds something easy to throw on in a rush to get warm. She won't be winning any fashion shows with the yoga pants and old sweatshirt she chooses, but her fingers cling to the bulky material as she sits on the bed, taking a few seconds to get her strength back.

She doesn't want to add any more fuel to Harvey's concern, and hasn't been gone long enough to cause a panic. She can afford to close her eyes—just for a moment—but as she leans back, the effort to lift them again is outside of her reach. She isn't going to fall asleep, is just testing the boundaries.

An outright lie, she tells herself, her mind already starting to slip into oblivion.

But it's a happy release, Harvey's soft smile and wanting touch, warming her disjointed thoughts. The memory makes her feel safe, like they actually have a chance at getting things right, and she lets herself drift off to the hope—answering her body's demand as she sinks into sleep.

...

Harvey struggles to focus on the rerun of Survivor he's been watching, his hands fidgeting awkwardly with the remote as a fight breaks out between two of the contents. He's seen the episode before, and won't ever admit it, but he actually likes watching the show. It's an embellishment of real life; alliances formed, loyalties put to the test, a win-at-all-costs mantra. Usually it doesn't take long for him to get invested in the drama, but Donna said she wouldn't be long, and he checks the time again, not wanting to smother her, but knowing she can be stubborn when it comes to asking for help. The fact she took two days off voluntarily is a warning in itself, and he lets another fifteen minutes crawl by, before giving up on the televised spectacle, and going in search of her.

He finds the door to her room slightly ajar but is still cautious, calling out her name before pressing it open. He doesn't want to intrude but is genuinely worried, and spots her immediately, curled up on the mattress, fast asleep. The change of clothes and damp curls spread across the pillow tell him she showered and the notion she'd kept her promise and wasn't just trying to escape him is a relief, but he still shuffles inside, led by the sound of her steady breathing. He justifies it isn't weird or stalkerish inviting himself into her bedroom. He only wants to check she's okay and stops shy of her relaxed features, taking in how peaceful she looks without the weight of the past month resting on her shoulders. He wishes he could erase the strain for her, take it all back, and a sigh escapes as he delicately sweeps aside the hair covering her face.

She leans into his palm on instinct, eyes still closed, and the reaction stirs a smile that momentarily replaces his guilt. He can't change what's happened but he's here now.

The overwhelming urge to climb in beside her washes over him and he withdraws his hand, fighting his own tiredness. Their food will be here shortly and getting into bed with her would take 'weird and stalkerish' to a whole new level. Not that he actually believes she'd mind after their breakthrough. It might be a little bold and presumptuous to assume, but he's fairly certain they're on the same page regarding their feelings. She hasn't given him any sign to suggest otherwise tonight, and the notion swells in his chest, his feet reluctantly drawing him out of the room to let her to sleep. She obviously needs the rest and he heads back to the living-room, plonking onto the sofa and picking up his phone to occupy himself.

He settles on some stupidly addictive game Marcus' kid installed last time he visited, the home screen launching with an irritating jingle and he mutes the sound, tapping the colored candies and watching them explode. He doesn't really know what he's doing, but gets into it, just shy of a high-score when the intercom buzzes. He loses his momentum and exits before he loses, sliding the device into his pocket and pretending it didn't annoy him to give up.

He's more focused on the delivery guy, fishing enough money out of his wallet for a decent sized tip. He hands the cash over in exchange for the bags, the waft making his stomach growl as he closes the door. He's suddenly starving but goes about plating the food, dishing it out into bowls, wanting to give Donna a few more minutes. He samples a spring-roll and some bits of chicken to keep himself going as he places everything on the dining room table in a buffet-like arrangement. He isn't really expecting Donna's going to eat much, but there's plenty of variety, and he sets down some napkins, wiping his hands before going to wake her.

She hasn't stirred since he left, still curled on her side and he perches on the edge of the mattress giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. "Donna, food's here."

She murmurs something, her voice a strained croak, and he frowns, sliding his hand against her forehead. She's warm, her skin starting to break out in a sweat, and he nudges her again, concerned by the raspy wheeze she makes in response. The sound unnerves him, a rattling vibration in his pocket mixing up his priorities, but he takes the phone out, reading Mike's name on the caller ID and answering the call. He's hoping the man can offer him some advice—caught off guard by a burst of aggression firing across the line.

"What the hell did you do?" Mike paces outside the door to Harvey's apartment, anger throwing his steps into a free-fall.

Harvey's genuinely confused by the accusation, but more worried about Donna, his jaw firming tightly. "Mike, listen—"

"You bribed Charles Hu to say I contacted him a year and a half ago with a scheme to break up Jeremy's contact," he snaps, not caring about whatever bullshit excuse Harvey has ready. "Now I can't dispute it because we're on record saying he's a saint!"

The frustration in the kid's tone is clear but so is his own, nervous fingers reaching to check Donna's pulse. It's steady but slow in between beats and his next word's go straight over the top of Mikes. "Donna's sick... there's something wrong." He's met by silence, meaning what he said was heard, and he stumbles over himself trying to be rational with the information he has. "She's got a fever. I don't know... I can't get her to wake up."

Mike registers the panic in his friend's voice and quickly forgets about the case, his anger disappearing in a rush. "You need me to come over?"

Harvey shakes his head even though the reaction can't be seen, his hand falling back to Donna's cheek. She shifts, seemingly annoyed by his fussing, but comes no closer to stirring. Instead her features twist like she's in pain and it settles his decision. "I'm going to have Ray drop us at Presbyterian."

"Okay." Mike jams his fist into his pocket starting back towards the elevator, "I'll meet you there."

Harvey hangs up to call his driver, breathing in roughly but genuinely grateful for Mike's level of maturity. He can't think about the case right now. His only focus is on Donna and fixing whatever is wrong, hoping like hell it isn't serious. She needs to be okay and he smoothes down her hair with the gentle assurance she's going to be fine.

She has to be.

Because this is supposed to be them getting it right, a fresh start and he's not going to let her give it up without a fight.

...

* * *

**AN:** _Thank you for sticking with this story! I know it's been lacking some Darvey interaction but I'm hoping this and the next few chapters make up for it :)_


	11. Chapter 11

**XI.**

A low grade infection, that's the doctor's diagnosis after hours of sitting with Mike waiting for news.

With a course of antibiotics she should make a full recovery but the there's an undertone to the plucky doctors voice, a cautious warning that follows his optimism. She's also anemic, malnourished and her immune system isn't as strong as it should be. Provided she starts taking supplements, improves her diet and takes it easy over the next few weeks there's no reason for concern but his tone dips with the suggestion that they might want to investigate any underline issues that could be impacting her health.

He recommends a counseling service and Harvey breathes out sharply, feeling Mike's hand against his shoulder. The weight of it is comforting despite the reality that they let things get this bad. He knew she was sick but hearing it out loud is harder to grasp and his voice is quiet as he asks about going to see her.

The lanky physician tells him now is fine but to keep it short as he reels off directions to her room, Harvey getting completely confused after the first 'turn left'. He's too unfocused to concentrate but knows Mike's photographic memory will have it covered. He just wants to see her, his muscles twitching with relief as he pushes up from the hard chair.

They escape the busy waiting room and Mike follows the panel of arrows feeling the phone inside his pocket start to buzz. In any other situation Rachel would come first but he ignores the vibration as Harvey falls into step beside him. The man's been a mess (understandably) and finding Donna is the only thing that's going to get his head straight, one of the reasons Mike's anger has mellowed since their earlier call. Even in the beginning Harvey's always put Donna above anything else, including winning at all costs which is how he knows Harvey didn't sabotage the deal. He's been too preoccupied to strike out vindictively and Mike's not about to put him in the middle of a blow-out with Samantha, especially not now. There wouldn't be any point and he tries to reassure Harvey's nerves with a slight wave of his hand. "You did the right thing bringing her here."

Harvey nods, though it doesn't make the white walls surrounding them any less intimidating. He hates that she's in here, that technically he's not allowed to stay with her but he's never given a damn about following the rules and isn't about to start now.

The silence swallows any further attempts to comfort him and Mike sets his attention back on what he knows will help, bringing them to an eventual halt outside Donna's room and quickly locating his phone. "Hey, you okay if I call Rach? She's been texting non-stop."

"Yeah, of course." It goes without saying but he does anyway, figuring the man's wife must be equally beside herself with worry. He's honestly not sure how he would have coped with the wait if it hadn't been for Mike, a flash of the vending machine he'd wanted to punch briefly entering his mind. He's been through a spectrum of emotions, from rage to paralyzing fear but hasn't been judged for any of the crippling feelings that had threatened to take hold. Instead Mike had been calm and collected, saying pretty much all the wrong things but at the right times and Harvey stumbles over voicing the depths of his gratitude. "Thanks... for being here Mike. I really appreciate it."

"You two are family." He answers sincerely, knowing how hard it's been for Harvey and not just tonight. If he had lost it, Mike wouldn't have been surprised but since hearing Donna's okay the man seems to have steadied himself and he pats Harvey's shoulder with a supportive squeeze, "tell her I'll be in to say hi."

Mike brings the phone up and Harvey leaves him to the call, pushing on the door and stepping inside to find Donna awake, her gaze meeting his over the thin hospital blanket.

She has an IV running into her hand but it's the only thing he can see that's out of place, aside from the obvious... and the worry filling her eyes. For the first time in weeks he might actually look worse than she does. Not that he's about to announce it out loud. He may lack compassion in certain situations but even he's not stupid enough to make her feel self-conscious and to him she's beautiful no matter what.

So long as she's healthy that's all he cares about.

"You don't want to try the coffee here, trust me..." he attempts to lighten the mood as he lowers himself into the chair beside her bed.

She tips her head taking in the exhaustion crinkling his eyes. He's always had a boyish charm to his features, even when they're hardened, but the trademark youthfulness seems to have slipped further away recently and she can't help feeling responsible. "You didn't have to stay."

He did. Being anywhere else would have tipped him over the edge but he can see she's worried, the guilt easy to recognize. He's been going up against it for weeks now- the cycle of her shutting down whenever she feels bad. It needs to be broken and he searches for an in, a light smile pulling his lips. "Blame Mike, he actually thinks the coffee is good... doesn't say a lot about Seattle."

The humor completely misses its mark, her eyes flashing away from him and she's quiet for a moment before disrupting the awkward silence. "Mike's here?" She asks, despite having the answer- a sense of dread pooling in her stomach. If Mike came then Rachel then knows which means Robert will find out and then Samantha. She won't be able to control the spread of gossip and panic coils in her chest, the sensation burning up her throat making her eyes sting. Every time she tries to get a handle on something it just seems to spiral into an insurmountable task and she swallows, flicking her palm to stem the pinpricks of moisture building.

The reaction alarms Harvey, his brow knotting together as he leans forward in confusion, "Don... _hey_, it's okay."

The rush in his voice fuels something inside her and the need to be strong painfully claws its way out through her sudden helplessness. She can't give him another reason to be worried. He's already been put through enough and she composes herself trying to meet her fear head on and think of plan, anything to calm her racing thoughts. "They want to keep me in for observation. I need to call Louis, tell Faye _before_-"

"Don't worry about that." He tries to decipher the situation assuming she's stressed about taking time off work. Honestly, he'd be surprised if she wasn't but it's the last thing she needs to be panicking over right now. "I'll talk to Louis tomorrow. We'll arrange a temp while you're gone, you don't have _to_-"

"What?" Her gaze lifts at the mention of a replacement and her mouth twists in a tight frown. The doctor said forty-eight hours and unless something drastic has happened at the firm in the last two days she doesn't understand why he'd be considering hiring extra staff. "I don't need a replacement."

His explanation stalls, realizing he misread why she was upset or more accurately the time-frame. Obviously they're both coming from different angles but the stubborn set of her jaw has no bearing on his decision. If anything it just reinforces that she needs to take a step back, let her body heal away from all the pressure she's been putting herself under. "Three weeks Donna, it's non-negotiable."

He may as well smack down a gavel, the enforced leave feeling like a sentence but it's not up to him to decide what she can and can't do. Even though technically as her boss he 'can' the fact he'd even try just diminishes the trust between them, the faith that she'd _thought_ they could get back. "So that's it, I don't even get a say?"

He can tell she's pissed, the glint of moisture behind her eyes in no way softening her anger and he winces, torn between doing what's best for her and expressing it in a way she can understand.

"That's _not..._" he hesitates, her tears becoming more present and he's suddenly wary of being manipulated, hating himself for the caution but knowing she's capable of acting her way through a situation she doesn't like. He's been witness to it in the past, more recently with Louis and he swallows roughly, attempting to ground himself. "I'm trying to help here."

"Funny, because it sounds more like you're trying to control me." She snaps the response harshly, blinking back the frustration threatening to overwhelm her. She can't get through this if he's going to undermine her at every turning point. She needs to be able to move ahead at her own speed but the emotion that suddenly spills from his gaze catches her off guard, his voice dangerously low as it carries between them.

"That's _not_ what this is."

He's never been good with words, their meaning usually lost beneath waves of uncertainty but if these last few weeks have proved anything, it's that she means more than his inability to act or say the right thing. Tonight he was more terrified than he's ever been in his life and the memories swarm through him choking what he wants to say, what he needs her to hear. "You wouldn't wake up Donna, and I couldn't... I _thought-_"

He stops, hands spilling over his knees at the failed attempt but she knows exactly what he thought; that he was going to lose her and the pain wound tightly in his face redirects her anger. She's mad at herself for trying to mask her defensiveness as a strength when it's not. Really she's just afraid; of needing him too much, letting him down, _failing... _but the urge to protect him is so deeply ingrained she pushes up in spite of her fear careful of the IV as she reaches out.

He doesn't resist the touch leaning into her palm and she feels the stutter of his breath hot and heavy against her wrist, the way his eyes screw shut making her heart sink. Mike was right, it isn't fair to keep holding him at arms length.

She's been trying to shield parts of herself because she feels guilty and ashamed but it's only hurting him more and when he finds his composure under her gentle strokes she brushes her mouth softly against his lips, tasting the faintest hint of salt and caffeine resting there. At some point he'd broken down. Maybe more than once and the thought aches in her chest as she pulls him closer. His hands break from their position moving to clutch the material of her gown and she feels him deepen the kiss as if he's trying to pour inside her. It's what she wants, the need burning inside her as she tries to tell him everything she can without words; that she's sorry, that he was right. That even though she doesn't know how yet she's going to stop pushing him away when she's at her most vulnerable. If his body's response is anything to go by he seems to understand and she winds her fingers through his hair, only fainting registering a noise from across the room.

"_Wow_, you guys know there are children around here right?"

She snaps back at Mike's voice but Harvey's slow to unwind his grasp, the small smile he's wearing unfazed by the interruption. "He's referring to himself."

Her cheeks flush with embarrassment but the gentle prompt reminds her to breathe, her body sinking back as Mike shoots Harvey a glare.

"I heard that." Though it's clear he was supposed to and the grin on his mouth is hard to suppress as he moves around the bed. He could say he's happy but goddamn fucking ecstatic comes closer to describing the surge of relief he feels rounding the bed, his hand landing on Donna's shoulder with a soft squeeze. "I'd ask how you're feeling, _but_..." he motions between her and Harvey, watching her face turn a deeper shade of red and it takes all his willpower not to heckle the elephant in the room any further. "Seriously though, you doing okay? The doc said to keep it short but I wanted to check in."

She nods, not quite bold enough to challenge the trace of a smirk that's replaced his amusement. Instead she glances at Harvey who seems content to stay where he is despite Mike's subtle reminder that visiting hours are well and truly over. His intention is obviously to remain seated and her hand slides over to clasp his fingers, urging him to go home and get some rest.

He doesn't want to go, every fiber of his being refuting the silent request. He needs to be where he can see her; close enough to reach out and reassure himself she's okay but he can see the worry starting to creep into her gaze and it breaks his determination. "I'll come by in the morning."

She relaxes as his lips brush over her temple, eyelids flickering under the weight of her own tiredness and she decides maybe he was right.

Maybe a couple of weeks off wouldn't be the _worst_ thing in the world.

She'd been wanting to take some leave anyway, the difference is now she's not running from anything. She has a reason to stay, to make things right- the fear of failing blanketed by people who won't let her fall. Friends who care and _Harvey_, who's caught her at every slip. She hasn't been alone, her mind has just been twisting everything to make it feel like she is and a small sigh follows the two men exiting the room.

She wishes she'd been able to see things this clearly before and the gentle pull of the IV makes her wonder if it has something to do with the nourishment being dripped into her system. The doctor had warned it would be a slow process to get back to 'normal' but he'd also said she'll start noticing the effects in small waves; that her body will repay her for being kind to it. Hard to believe after everything she's put it through but not impossible to accept, the positivity already sparking something that's been missing recently.

She hadn't realized just how thin the line she's been treading actually is- but she has to keep moving, no matter how unstable it suddenly seems.

.

.

* * *

**AN:** Fremulon... not a doctor.

Haha but no really I'm winging it. Taking a lot of creative liberties with the medical stuff. I hope it's believable, would love to hear what you think! I'm also going to bring Faye back next chapter, stir up some more drama... cause why not? ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**XII.**

Harvey's eyes strain to read his calendar, tiredness getting the better of him as the meetings start to blur in their brightly colored blocks. He misses the way Donna used to organize things or rather, the way she _didn't_\- personally making sure he was kept ahead of his schedule for days in advance. It seems like a life time ago and the irony that she's the reason he can't keep focused, isn't lost on him. Over the years he took far too much for granted, expecting his loyalty to cover a multitude of mistakes but he'd missed the mark a lot and is determined to make up for it now. He can do both, be there for her and keep his clients well represented.

He just needs a moment to breathe.

He'd only gotten a few hours sleep, not able to shut off after all the adrenaline leading up to his exchange with Donna at the hospital. That's why he'd been straight back there this morning dropping off a few essentials; her purse (that he'd left behind in the chaos), a decent toothbrush, some clothes and a book in case she got bored. Really it had just been an excuse to see her, to make sure he hadn't imagined the way her lips had sought him out letting her walls down with unspoken absolution and he'd been rewarded with her open touch, her eyes showing no regret as the morning light had spilled around her.

He'd left feeling lighter despite the exhaustion set in his bones but he knows it's nothing compared to what she's been feeling and when Louis appears at the door, his own his state is clearly obvious- the man stopping with a frown and pregnant pause before unleashing what he's thinking.

"You look like shit."

Harvey rolls his eyes not in the mood to explain himself and not really able to. Donna had asked that he wait to tell anyone about her stay in the hospital, especially Louis, and he'd immediately read the guilt in her expression following the request (a cycle he's trying to break) but in this instance he couldn't argue. He was the one who'd accused her of being dishonest with Louis. It's how he'd approached his concern, purposely trying to get a rise out of her and even though he regrets the choice of words now he can hardly take it back. It's something she has to address with Louis herself and he mumbles about having a headache hoping it's enough of a distraction to deter the man's interest.

Louis doesn't buy the excuse, his spider senses tingling in warning but now isn't the time to push them. There's a bigger Doctor Octopus they have to fight and he relays the information Gretchen just gave him. "Faye wants to see us."

Harvey flinches, the woman calling on them the absolute last thing he needs and he really must be tired because rather than stir more drama he resolves to try and keep the peace. Instead of complaining he closes his laptop pushing out of his chair and straightening the lines of his Suit in preparation for the dress-down. Faye never wants to _just_ chat. There's always a reason, usually one that leaves him pissed off and he squares his shoulders falling into step beside Louis.

The sooner they get this over with, the better.

.

,

Faye glances up from her desk as the two managing partners arrive in her office, hand poised over the reason she called them in. She understands Donna's situation is a sensitive one but having to find out the extent through her own means isn't something she's pleased about. She's sympathetic and genuinely concerned but she also has a job to do, reputations to maintain and she purses her lips tightly at their approach. "I understand Donna will be taking another day of absence."

"That's right." Harvey tenses at her tone but doesn't offer any more information seeing no reason to. As a senior member of staff it's within his role to approve Donna's leave and more than that, it's none of Faye's goddamn business.

The wall that goes up is immediate and Faye sighs at his defensiveness. She was hoping they wouldn't have to drag this out but clearly that isn't going to be the case. Try as she might they seem insistent on viewing her as the enemy but they need to work together if they're going to get the firm back in a good standing and so she placates him, giving Harvey the chance to come clean on his own. "Would you care to tell my why you submitted paperwork this morning filing for a temporary replacement for three weeks?"

_Fuck_.

He inwardly curses at the bold question unable to dispute it. The approval might be within his jurisdiction but he'd hadn't expected her to get wind if it so quickly and he's even more pissed she didn't come to him directly. Louis was supposed to hear it from Donna first but the man's shock cuts off any attempt to come up with a cover.

"She's taking three weeks?" Louis narrows his gaze in confusion, glancing between the pair and more out of sorts when Faye shakes her head.

"No, she's not." She slides over the paper she's been covering. From what she'd managed to find out, in spite of no one here actually telling her, the fact Donna was admitted to hospital is a serious cause for concern and regardless of what both men think of her she's trying to protect everyone's best interest. "I've signed off on six weeks and extended the contract for a temporary replacement."

Harvey bristles as he picks up the document, skimming over it with utter contempt. It had been hard enough convincing Donna to take three weeks and if Faye had bothered to talk to him first she would know this is only going to make things worse. Donna will see it as is a reflection she hasn't being doing her job which is bullshit. She's been working herself hard than anyone and he eyes the woman across the desk refusing to accept the conditions on Donna's behalf. "She won't agree to this."

"I'm not giving her a choice." Faye clasps her hands together, stating the fact bluntly. They can't afford to have another member of staff in the spotlight, not with the backlash still going on from Robert Zane's dismissal and any rumors of neglect surrounding mental health are like pouring gas on an open flame. She's taking the appropriate measures to ensure Donna's health comes first and she doesn't care if she has to be the bad guy to do it.

"Like _hell_ you're not " Harvey waves the paper down meeting her stern expression, the warning behind it evident; she knows more than she's letting on and if he wants Donna's condition to stay private he'll back down. It's emotional blackmail and he holds her glare, his open fist clenching at his side.

"You might not believe me," she adds trying to temper his anger, "but I'm trying to look out for Donna's interests _and_ the firm's."

"That's a _fucking_ lie and you know it." He spits hotly, refusing to be railroaded by her claim to care. Maybe it's the hours of lost sleep messing with him or instinct from years of going head to head against bullies but he forgets his resolve, letting loose with what really thinks, "you're trying to cover yourself because this is all your _goddamn_ fault. You made it impossible for everyone working here to do their jobs and now you're worried the board is going to find out and fire your ass." He steps forward feeling Louis' grip at his arm but he shrugs it off, not finished with what he has to say, "so don't _dare_ sit there tell me you're doing what's best for her when you couldn't give a shit about her or this place."

Anger flares beneath Faye's fingertips as she pushes up refusing to be spoken to like a villain. "You're out of line and if you think I'm beyond reprimanding the way you're behaving-"

"Would someone please tell me what the _fuck_ is going on?"

Louis breaks the exchange, his voice louder than both of theirs combined as he tries to make sense of what the hell is happening. Donna had said she'd been sick with a stomach bug and if that's not why she's ill he needs to know right goddamn now.

Harvey ignores the mans anger knowing it needs to be addressed but not here and not like this. Donna isn't some 'problem' that can be swept aside with a piece of paper and he slams the application down on Faye's desk, his eyes narrowing in warning. "She doesn't see this."

Faye squares her shoulders showing no remorse as she sits back down. Her entire career has been spent making difficult decisions that piss people off and she's not going to start apologizing for them now. "I emailed it ten minutes ago."

"Mother-_f'cker-_" he breathes the curse out, anger steering him around because he knows if he doesn't leave the urge to punch something is going to come to fruition. The only thing he can do is walk away and Louis' footsteps fall hotly on his heels following him out of the room.

For once he doesn't lash out at man, stopping at the men's room and palming his fist against the door swinging it open. He thought he could do this, keep it together but maybe he can't and his hands land against the sink letting his shoulders slump in defeat.

"Donna's in hospital."

It's the absolute last thing Louis was expecting to spill into the silence and he startles with the explanation. "_What__!? _Is she okay?"

"She's fine. _Will_ be." Harvey breathes out, his first objective to put the man's concern at ease. His second to minimize the damage so Donna doesn't kill him on sight, which after this seems like an entirely plausible scenario. "She has a low-grade infection, she wanted to call you herself _but_-"

"I don't care about that." He does, more than he's willing to admit. It hurts that he's been left out of the loop but he's strong enough to rise above it. Clearly she's not okay. If she was, Harvey wouldn't be this on the edge and Faye wouldn't be peddling her bullshit at them so all he really cares about is doing what he can to help. "I'll fix this, find something in the by-laws. Go, tell her it's fine."

Harvey glances up reading Louis' determination and it's not that he doesn't trust the man; he does. Louis would do anything for Donna, he's proved that time and again but his own schedule is a burden he can't ask the man to take on. "_Louis_-"

"I mean it." He stops the protest before it has a chance to form, well aware of what its going to take to be Harvey Specter for the rest of the day along with doing what he promised for Donna. Still, it's not outside his capabilities and this means something- maybe the most important thing he can do to get the firm back on track, leaving him without an ounce of hesitation. "I'll take care of everything here."

Harvey doesn't think he's ever wanted to hug the man more (or _ever) _in his life and though he doesn't, his gratitude is genuinely heartfelt as it passes between. "Thank you Louis"

He nods, watching the man leave and the quick exit tells him more that any conversation they've ever had. Things are bad but he can do his part to hold it together and that's exactly what he plans to do, shaking fingers reaching into his pocket to call an emergency meeting with Katrina, Alex and Samantha. Because if now isn't the time to band together he doesn't when is and he hits send determined to prove he's the managing partner Donna always knew he could be.

.

.

* * *

Donna flinches as a loud knock cuts through the apartment, no need to guess who it is. Harvey had called the moment the hospital staff informed him she'd checked out against the doctor's advice and she'd been equally as terse in telling him she was fine and not to come round before hanging up.

The moment she'd read Faye's email she'd felt suffocated by the four walls surrounding her. She'd needed to get out of there, clear her head and be somewhere that she wasn't being continually scrutinized. The doctor had said he'd prefer it if she stayed but his words were noted as a recommendation. So long as she keeps taking the antibiotics and rests there hadn't seemed to be any problem in coming home. Nearly 24 hours on the medication has brought her fever down and it's the first time in days exhaustion isn't drowning her, just lapping in waves she can handle. If it wasn't for the anxiety coiled in her stomach she'd almost be relieved but it's turned over by the thought of six weeks off.

Mandatory leave- like she's somehow incapable of making decisions for herself.

She's been in hospital not on lock-down and doesn't understand why Harvey couldn't wait two goddamn minutes to let her discuss the situation with Faye herself. She knows he's worried, that he's only trying to do the right thing and the reminder softens her steps towards the door but she's still frustrated as she opens it- an involuntary scowl forming on her lips. "Six weeks?"

"Louis is undoing it right now."

The defense doesn't reassure her and she grips the wood tighter. "So you told him."

He winces at the accusation, his arm lifting but it falls limply by his side with nowhere else to go. "I had to Donna. Faye saw the request I put in for a temp and now she's playing some bullshit HR move-"

"Jesus Harvey, why didn't you just advertise on a billboard?!" She's annoyed, the anger not necessarily directed at him but landing there anyway fulled by the subtle up-turn of his lips. There's nothing even remotely amusing about the situation and she releases her hold on the frame, fighting another wave of irritation.

_"What?"_

_"_I_..._" he breathes in, mouth twitching at her stubbornness. She'd been over the worst of her symptoms this morning and even though he wishes she'd given it more time watching her glare at him is oddly comforting. "You just seem, _better... _that's all."

He sounds relived, the lines of exhaustion relaxing under his eyes and her anger wavers with a rush of guilt. Whatever happened at the firm he's here now because he cares and she can't hold that against him, her own wrong-doing's fluttering beneath a sigh. "I should have told you I checked out."

"Yeah, you should have." He isn't going to argue the point but he's also not mad, just relieved to see her slip from frustrated to apologetic. He could give a damn about the run around. His only fear was being shut out again but she'd answered his call with no hesitation despite being short and he's glad he came over regardless.

"I'm sorry." She offers the apology, a little sheepish as she bites down on her lip but that doesn't make it any less sincere. She doesn't want to fight with him. They're both too tired for it and he seems on the same page when he brushes her sleeve, his fingers feathering down to her hand and capturing it with a gentle pull.

"Come here..." he smiles as she sinks into the hug without any protest, her cheek pressing against his chest and he breathes out slowly putting his complete faith in Louis. "We'll fix it, okay?"

She nods at the quiet reassurance drawing comfort from the weight of his arms wrapped around her. It's a hundred times easier than leaning on her anger and when he eventually separates them she immediately misses the contact shifting to look at him. "Are you going back to the office?" He shakes his head and she's relived, not just because she wants him to stay. He hasn't taken a minute to stop and she blindly feels for his cuff, tugging him into the apartment.

He wordlessly closes the door and follows behind her, raising an eyebrow when she passes straight through the living-room towards her bedroom. "_Donna_?"

She stills, turning and watching him close the distance with slight hesitation slowing his steps. She knows why he's being cautious and her face flushes at the approach but she manages to control the reaction, lifting her palms and flattening them against the buttons of his shirt with a gentle warning. "You need to sleep."

His eyes glimmer with amusement, his fingers grazing the sides of her hips with daring purpose. "Not a proposition?"

It's a challenge not to encourage him and maybe she should have thought more about taking him to bed but he doesn't seem bothered by the forwardness and she's quick to maintain her innocence. "An invite."

"I'll take it." He smiles smoothly, slowly leaning down to catch her lips beneath a tender kiss.

They should probably talk about the changing dynamics that are happening between them. They might not be rushing into bed (only in the _literal_ sense) but he wants to know that this is okay, that she isn't feeling pressured or uncomfortable- though they way her mouth opens up to him is an answer in itself. Almost _too_ much of one and in an effort to respect their boundaries he reluctantly cuts the contact short, entwining their hands as he trails behind her into the dimly lit space housing her bed.

He slips off his shoes at the edge of the mattress discarding his jacket and removing his tie. He thinks about losing the shirt as well but settles on slipping open the cuffs and undoing the first few buttons. Honestly he's so tired the clothes don't bother him as he crawls up to meet her. The soft underlay feels like heaven but it's nothing compared to how she feels pulled snugly against his chest. She's facing away so he can't see her expression but delicate fingers curl around his wrists and he's finally able relax protecting the weight of her small frame.

It's not the normal he's striving for. He wants to keep her safe, be the person she relies on but she isn't the sort to sit around waiting to be rescued. That's how he knows she's going to clear the hurdles ahead of her and why he quickly gives in to the inviting darkness; because so long as she's okay, he will be too.

.

.

* * *

Donna wakes to the sound of Harvey's phone vibrating and it takes her a minute to orientate herself, confused by the body trapping her in place. He'd shifted onto his stomach at some point, his arm staying locked around her and she smiles stealing a moment before the silent ring urges her to untangle them.

He doesn't stir, completely dead to the word and she rubs her eyes finding her way across to his humming jacket.

She pulls out the device, reading Louis' name flash across the screen and a flutter of nerves build in her stomach. It's a conversation she'd been trying to prepare for but the reality of it is harder to swallow and she moves out of the bedroom pulling the door closed so not to disturb Harvey.

With a deep breath she thumbs the green accept button answering the call. "Louis, it's Donna."

_He stalls midway through__ pacing, the sound of her voice catching him off guard. It's been one hell of an afternoon and he's still buzzing with adrenaline but it slides into hesitation as he stands awkwardly in the middle of his office. "Are you... is everything okay?"_

"Yeah." She answers softly, leaning back against the wall as if it can somehow absorb her guilt. Honestly she doesn't know what else to say and settles on starting with the obvious hoping it will guide the way. "I'm home. Harvey's here, he's just sleeping"

_He's relieved to hear both pieces of news having seen how far the man was pushing his limits. That's why he'd been determined to cut Faye off at the knees and they did, he and Katrina finding a loop-hole in the by-laws. She may have the power to legally fire people but she can't dictate mandatory leave. Not without a written medical certificate to back it up which he knew she would try to get, definitely forge if she had to. _

_Lucky for him Samantha had been like a pitbull with the hospital staff getting all the information legally allowed to counter any document Faye might produce. While she'd been doing that he and Alex had taken Harvey's meetings and his mind is still in a frenzy but they don't need to worry anymore -Donna doesn't- and he assets himself so there's no reason to doubt it. "You can take as much or as little time as you need. Faye doesn't have the grounds to enforce anything and we made sure she knows it."_

The 'we' part unsettles her but it's overtaken by a surge of relief. She doesn't know where to begin showing her gratitude, not just for his help but for doing without question in spite of not being given whole story.

"Thank you Louis..." she breathes in, exhaling slowly, "and I'm sorry. I should have been the one to tell you."

_He wants to ask why she didn't but knows he's partially responsible. His behavior after Robert was disbarred had been selfish and short-sighted and even though he'd tried to make up for it clearly he hasn't. There's still a wall between them but he hopes their friendship is strong enough to withstand it and his gaze draws to the skyline__, the afternoon sun giving him courage to confront the awkward silence. __"I'm sorry too Donna, you should have felt like you could come to me-"_

"Louis, stop." She shakes her head not wanting him to shoulder the blame, searching for the words she's been struggling with. They've been in situations like the one with Robert before, maybe even worse by comparison, and she'd always bounced back to take control. The fact she didn't this time isn't his fault. When he'd tried to fix things she'd treated their relationship like it didn't matter but it does and she wants to make things right between them again. "You reached out and I didn't treat that with respect. I wasn't being honest... and that's my fault, not yours."

_He catches the waver in her voice and he appreciates her saying it but they could spend the next hour playing verbal Cluedo- who did what, where and why? If anything it's Faye goddamn Richardson standing in the kitchen with the bloodied candlestick holder and his mouth twitches at the image of her dressed as Colonel Mustard. "Donna, if this a 'who was the biggest jerk' competition... I don't think either of us get to claim that title." _

_He swears he hears a smile break over the line, the comment having the desired effect but it still doesn't fix the heavier issue resting between them. He'd put out the fires today but something sparked them and he's willing to take a step back, having __faith in her and trusting Harvey, but he also wants to show his support. "I'm here... whatever you need."_

She closes her eyes at the compassion knowing it's something he has in spades when a situation warrants it but she's never quite felt it like this before. She wasn't expecting his forgiveness to come so easily and she swipes at her cheeks batting away the stray drops of moisture landing there. "I really appreciate that."

_He nods into the phone, his chest expanding with relief as his fingers drum the desk. He can tell she isn't in a great place but senses they've moved forward and he risks pushing the boundaries a little further. "You're okay?"_

It's a simple approach, more tact than she's used to hearing from him and she's surprised by the need to be completely honest in return. "I will be."

_He knows it's the truth because Harvey had said the exact same thing. It's not a smoke and mirrors act, not this time, and a million different questions burn on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them prepared to give her the space she needs. "Just let me know what I can do." _

"You're already doing it Louis." She answers without hesitation, the sentiment bringing a natural conclusion to the call and she hangs up turning her head towards where Harvey is sleeping. She doesn't feel like she deserves a free pass or the leniency everyone is showing but deep down she knows that's part of the problem. These people are her family and if things were reversed she'd do exactly the same thing for them. It's just harder to grasp when she's the one asking for help but that doesn't sway her resolve as she re-enters the bedroom, setting the phone down on the vanity and moving to lie on the mattress.

As soon as she's within reach Harvey's drapes his arm over her and she wriggles forward, her fingers resting against the line of his jaw. He looks happy and she feels the same emotion thrum though her body, scared and terrified by it at the same time. He could easily break her but she might just have broken him first.

The one thing she does know is that they stand more of a chance healing together and that's why she's not giving up on either of them.

.

.

* * *

**AN:** I have the next couple of chapters planned but I haven't started writing them yet. I was thinking of maybe slowing the updates and starting something new but I'm keen to hear what other people think? :) xx


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII****.**

It's not unusual for Harvey to be out before dawn- his morning runs or early prep work often seeing him rise before the sun but there's something different about the hues as they crest over the taller buildings. Maybe it's because he's taking it in for once but a smile curves his lips as the cab takes the next left bringing them to a stop back at Donna's.

He'd woken up groggy from too much sleep but surrounded by the smell of orchids and vanilla, a scent he's been wanting to drown himself in for years and it had taken every once of his strength to untangle from her warmth. He hadn't wanted to leave and he'd whispered as much against her hair, not surprised that she didn't stir awake. His body may be replenished from the rest but hers is going to take more time which is why he'd risen to make her a proper breakfast only to find her cupboards bare. A box of cup-a-soup and some saline crackers had stared back from the empty shelves fueling his motivation to do something about the situation and he'd called a cab, deciding to go home and freshen up then find the nearest supermarket. The ingredients he's picked out aren't exactly gourmet standard but they'll do and he pays the driver, collecting the bags from the seat beside him.

It isn't long before he's back in the warmth of her apartment, the place still quiet and he dumps the food in the kitchen before going to check on her.

He smiles at the way she's bunched the blankets around her in place of his arms, dwarfed by the large spread but other than that there's no sign she's noticed his absence which is a relief.

He makes a quick note of the time on his was back out. It's a Saturday so there's no rush to get into the office but he still wants to make an appearance, find out where his schedule is at after taking yesterday off. He knows Louis will have handled anything' urgent but with Faye breathing down their necks he needs to be on-top of everything.

With the thought driving him, he goes about familiarizing himself with Donna's kitchen. He's only used it once, an hour prior to the god awful dinner party she hosted and he can remember commenting then that it was unorganized chaos and it was no wonder she never cooked. That had been at a half a bottle of wine in, her payment for dragging him over to help salvage the appetizers she'd drowned in cocktail sauce.

It makes him chuckle softly and he absently packs away the items he doesn't need but bought to stock up her cupboards, thinking back to that night and how he'd actually had fun. He didn't bring it up (because usually she would have known) but he'd actually had a date planned that he'd cancelled last minute due to her flustered, panicking phone call. Later, when he'd planned to tease her about it, the intention had completely slipped his mind- losing his inhibitions as they'd moved from wine to sneaking tequila shots. He'd been laughing so much he'd spat a shrimp into Donna's mother's hair and he's an idiot, because it should have been obvious, even back then, that Donna's always been the one.

She was the person he'd drop everything for, who could make him comfortable without trying- tell him things he instantly trusted just because she was saying them. She'd had him hooked from the moment she sauntered up and made herself his secretary and he couldn't see it then but he can now. She means everything to him and he's determined to show her, set on his mission to fix breakfast.

He keeps things tidy as he goes about making the batter for pancakes. It's nothing elaborate but he also arranges a selection of fruits he bought, placing condiments -including whipped cream- on the bench, trying not to let his mind wander to _that_ particular memory. If he does he'll end up needing a second shower and he focuses on finding a skillet instead, waiting for it heat before globing in the mixture.

He's halfway through a descent sized stack when Donna appears wrapped in a robe, groggily rubbing her eyes at him.

"Morning." He smiles, pleased with himself but her lips don't quite have the same enthusiasm as they lift in response. She seems distracted, her gaze falling to the food and he'll admit he may have gone a little overboard but he isn't expecting her to eat everything. She just needs to have something and he makes the one he's working on his last, flipping it out onto the plate.

She watches him turn off the gas, touched by the gesture but feeling overwhelmed by the queasiness turning her stomach. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

He can hear the hesitation in her voice and his gaze drifts back, his lips dipping into a frown. She looks pale and flushed, his feet inching closer as his hand lifts to her forehead. "You okay?" He asks carefully, momentarily forgetting about the food, "you're a little warm."

"I'm fine." She just wasn't expecting a banquet meal. He must have gotten up hours ago to get everything ready and she doesn't want to seem ungrateful, breathing in slowly. "Thank you, this is... "

_A lot_.

The word circles in her head but it's not what she wants to say she just can't think of anything else. Distracted as his thumb slides down to her cheek, urging her to look at him and not the spread of food.

"Donna, it's okay..." he assures her gently, "there's juice and some other stuff in the fridge. Have whatever you feel like."

As long as she eats is the unspoken agreement and there's no hurt in his expression, just encouragement as he places a chaste kiss to her temple. It instantly relaxes her and she catches his hand before he pulls away, landing her palm at the front of his sweater. "Whatever I feel like, huh?"

The insinuation is teasing, her smirk making him smile and he mumbles a '_cute_' against her lips, capturing her mouth with a quiet hum.

His mind urges himself not to get caught up but his body doesn't listen drawn in by the fresh taste of mint on her breath. He would lose himself completely if not for the fact it means she probably hadn't even thought about breakfast, a habit she needs to break, and he reluctantly sinks out of the kiss squeezing her waist, "whipped cream is reserved for the pancakes."

She eyes the can behind him, hooking up an eyebrow, "since when?"

"Since I have to go into the office..." he admits begrudgingly but the trace of a smirk still ghosts his mouth, "and because we both know I won't be going _anywhere_ if we start down that path."

A faint blush speckles her skin and she bites her lip, wriggling out of his grasp and stepping across to the bowls of fruit he placed on the bench. She can feel his eyes on her as she picks up the said item and uncaps the lid. It's a lot less confronting than the pancakes and she selects a strawberry making a perfect swirl around the tip.

She senses his approach, her lips twitching as they close over the juiciness taking a bite.

He inwardly groans not able to help himself, his fingers pressing lightly into her hips. She has her hair pulled up giving him easy access and her breathes a trail of kisses down her neck grinning when she angles her head but he's blocked by the tightly pulled robe. The silk feels soft under his stubble and he slides his palm to the belt at her front, curious when she stills the movement with her free hand.

"You have work remember?" She swallows, trying to keep her voice even as she places the half-eaten strawberry down. It's not that she doesn't want to. She was the one who started it and the urge to continue vibrates through her but his hand ready to journey beneath her clothes brings forward flashes of uncertainty.

She's lost weight, too much in recent weeks and her stamina isn't what it was a month ago without adding thirteen years into the mix. She's afraid his memories won't live up to expectation and nerves coiling in place of her enthusiasm, deciding food is the lesser of two evils as she swaps distractions. "We should eat before it gets cold."

She smiles but he can tell something is off and he catches her wrist, wondering if she's upset about him leaving. "_Hey_..." he tilts his head trying to read her, "you know I'm coming back, right?"

He looks worried and her chest expands with the need to reassure him he hasn't done anything wrong. "I do know that Harvey."

She squeezes his hand, her expression more genuine and he's a little disappointed when she lets go- but glad when she moves around him to the stack of pancakes lifting one to a smaller plate. Getting her to open up was always going to be a process but he can see she's trying and his mouth curves as he dishes up a serve for himself. It doesn't matter if she needs time or how long it takes- he isn't going anywhere.

.

.

* * *

Rachel misses her husband, the house feeling empty despite the stacks of files splayed out that have been keeping her busy. She's been picking up the slack in Mike's absence, holding things together because even though the Brick Street case is closed and she wants him home, it's more important he stay where his is for the next couple of days. As much as she'd like to be there for Donna herself, it's the next best alternative.

She flops open the next folder with a sigh, too distracted to really focus. For weeks now her gut has been telling her something was wrong. The only other time she and Donna fought it had twisted her insides in the same way, the gnawing getting worse until they'd both apologized and even though technically they're not really fighting being ignored still hurts.

She'd wanted to help Donna, scared her friend was making impulsive decisions for the wrong reasons. She can understand the redhead choosing Thomas over the firm but then dumping him days later had suggested something was going on. Maybe she'd been a little harsh in addressing it but she'd been coming off the back of her father's disbarment and she'd hoped Donna would understand that. She hadn't been expecting the silent treatment that followed not even giving her a chance to clear the air.

Mike had tried reassuring her it was probably to do with the firm being under scrutiny rather than Donna avoiding her but when she'd talked to her husband a few days ago he'd admitted just how bad things were and she'd immediately regretted not trusting her instincts. At first he'd attempted to sugarcoat it but when he'd called on his way to the hospital she'd been beside herself with worry and still is.

Even though Mike promised Donna's going to fine, that Harvey is making sure of it, she can still feel anxiety pitted in her stomach.

And _screw_ it.

She and Mike can tag-team if they have to but she closes the folder in her hand, reaching for her laptop to search for flights. She should be there and so intent on the decision she almost misses the phone lighting up on the tablebut she catches the flicker, Donna's name serendipitously appearing.

She grabs it without hesitation, closing her eyes in the hope of finally hearing her best friend on the other end of the line. "Please... tell me your okay."

_Donna shifts on the couch, guilt washing over her at the waver in Rachel's voice but she quickly swallows it. "I am, Rach." _

Her shoulder's sag with relief, and if it were anyone else she wouldn't even come close to believing it but their history together is worth more than easy pleasantries. Things might not be great but Donna calling is something and her gaze shifts to her laptop with a sigh, "I was just about to book flights out there..."

_There's no indication it's a joke and__ Donna's fingers wrap nervously around the frayed cushion she's been toying with, "I know you're worried... please don't be mad."_

Mad.

The suggestion tightens in Rachel's chest.

She's been unsure, worried, even erring on the side of frustration but she isn't angry- just desperate to talk to her friend. "I'm not upset." She shakes her head needing to voice what she _is_ feeling, "but you scared me Donna... I don't hear from you in weeks and then I find out you're in the hospital, what's going on?"

_She doesn't know how to put it into__ words. It had been easier with Louis, he hadn't asked for specifics and that's why she'd waited so long to reach out to. She knew Rachel would ask the hard questions and she'd tried to prepare for them but it's still hard and she skirts around admitting the full truth. "I came down with an infection. The doctor put me on antibiotics and I'm back home, feeling better... everything's fine now."_

Bullshit.

Rachel doesn't buy the rushed explanation any more than she'd bought Mike's initial attempt to gloss over his concern. When she'd prised it out he'd painted a picture completely different to self-confident, voluptuous woman they'd both worked with and she knows the only way to get a straight answer is by directly bringing up what her husband told her.

"Mike said you've lost weight." She doesn't shy away from being blunt but her voice softens with a flicker of fear, "Donna, he sounded really worried."

_It's the first time anyone has focused on her appearance and she flinches, clasping her thumb around her thinner wrist. At some point she'd stopped noticing or even caring about the weightloss. It had just felt good to have control over something but now she's realizing it's more important to be in control of her health. She wants to go back to work, start enjoying things again and stop hiding from the fact her body has taken the brunt of her mind's refusal to deal with things._

_"I went through a rough patch..." she breathes out being as candid as she can without the graphic details, the night Harvey had asked for her help on a case and several others making her stomach churn in response. It had been dangerous to purge herself of the only nutrients she'd been getting but at the time it had seemed like the only way to cope. Now she knows it's not, she just has to be honest with Rachel as well as herself. "I wasn't looking after myself but I want things to go back to normal again__, I'm trying_."

The brunette doesn't doubt the resolve, the words mirroring the same sentiment Mike had shared over the phone. He'd been almost giddy with relief when he told her about walking in on Harvey and Donna finally working things out and she's happy for them.

She is.

Harvey would do anything for Donna but she's still wary given the tremulous nature of their relationship. Donna's suffered enough heartache over the years because of it and she bites down on her lip, treading carefully around the subject. "Would that have anything to do with Harvey?"

_Donna__ can sense the unspoken hesitation and it's a sign she really is feeling more like herself. She wants to open up in spite of it, knowing Rachel is just trying to look out for her like Mike did with Harvey. The day he'd been round to see her he'd been supportive but also been protective of his former mentor and she leans her elbow into the couch, sinking her head against her palm. "__He's been amazing Rach."_

There's a softness to the tone she can't ignore, something that hadn't been there when Donna had spoken about Thomas. She'd been rooting for the pair but deep down she'd always hoped Harvey would step up and from what she's heard he has but she still wants her friend to be careful. "I'm really happy for you guys."

_The blessing means everything even though it's laced with traces of concern and she smiles gently trying to reassure the brunette. "I am too."_

The insistence fills her with more confidence and she momentarily let's go of her worry, letting it fall aside to satisfy her curiosity. "Have you...?"

_The innuendo behind the suggestion is clear and Donna knows it's meant to be a light-hearted prod but she freezes recalling her rebuff of Harvey's advances at breakfast. He'd take it in his stride not seeming phased but it's been circling her thoughts since he left and she isn't sure how to answer the question._

The silence is an indication there's something wrong. Donna's never been shy about telling all in the bedroom department and this is exactly what she'd been afraid of- that navigating a new relationship is the last thing her friend needs right now but she reserves her judgment probing for more information. "_Donna_?"

_She swallows, trying to find a way to explain it. The reluctance is a problem with her not Harvey and the novelty of sharing her fear is__ somewhat new. For weeks she hasn't confided in anything other than her own consuming thoughts but it's a first step and she forces herself to take it. "What if I'm not what he's expecting?"_

Rachel frowns not really sure what the comment means and still at a disadvantage. "I _don't_-"

_"How I look." She clarifies, the insecurity rearing itself as one of the hardest things she's had to admit recently. It's not like she's been able to hide the weight-loss but the aid of clothing has lessened the impact and if Mike was worried she's even more scared about how Harvey's will react once the barriers are removed. She doesn't want to disappoint him and pulls her knees up with a sigh, hating herself for doubting him. He's been nothing but supportive but she still can't shake the anxiety coiled in her stomach. "I know, it's stupid..." _

"It's not."

It _is _but only because Harvey's not shallow when it comes to the people he cares about, though she can understand why it would be an issue. She's had her fair share of days where body issues have been the focus of her thoughts just not to the same extremes and she winces knowing her concern probably fueled her best friend's insecurities. What she can take comfort in is the fact Donna's being honest about her worries and that alone is a sign that whatever Harvey and Mike have been doing in her absence it's been working- the main reason she's willing to jump to Harvey's defense. "Donna, he cares about you more than anything... if you tell him how you're feeling he's going to understand."

_"__We are taking about the same Harvey Specter?" She inserts the humor as a deflection because she knows Rachel is right but there's also trace amounts of truth to it.__ She and Harvey have never been great at communicating with actual words and they're slowly overcoming that hurdle but she doesn't want to put him in an awkward situation where he feels like he can't be honest. She'd rather just avoid the problem completely event though doing that is what led her here in the first place. _

"It's also about you." Rachel points out, aware Donna might not see it but when it comes to Harvey that changes everything. The redhead has always been his exception to the rule and she's finally starting to see why Mike has been able to put so much faith in the man. "If I know anything, that means something."

_The words of encouragement make her feel more at ease and willing to trust Rachel and Harvey above her own insecurities. They're two people who have only ever had her best interests at heart and she doesn't quite know how to express the gratitude as it wells up inside __her. _

_"I've really missed this."_

The sentiment is shared and Rachel tries to ignore the tug of regret that pulls in her chest. She wishes they'd been in touch sooner but if she's learnt anything from this situation it's that they can't dwindle on past mistakes. "If you need anything, remember I can be there in under day."

_Donna knows it's a serious offer and is overwhelmed by the gesture. Rachel and Mike shouldn't be putting their lives on hold for her but letting go of that guilt is the only way to move forward and she forces a smile against the phone, "I think Harvey, Louis and Mike have it covered... but I'm sending your husband home soon, I promise."_

Rachel is surprised by the surge of relief she feels and not just from the mention of her husband but that everyone has rallied together in her absence. It's the least Donna deserves and she wipes her eye getting rid of the sting as they agree to catch up again in a couple of days.

It's the first time in weeks she's been able to glance at her dimmed phone without anxiety and her immediate reaction is to call Mike. She's finally able to see things from his point of view, that their two best friends have a journey ahead of them but she truly believes they can work things out.

.

.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for all the reviews! Based on the responses I've decided to try and keep focusing on this story as my priority but I'm writing chapter by chapter with no real plan haha. Throw me your ideas, let's see what happens :D Xx


	14. Chapter 14

**XIV.**

Harvey finally gives up on work around five, later than he would have liked but he can't fault Louis for the man's handling of things. Every meeting was attended to, none of his clients are pissed and a stack of paperwork is missing from his now pristine desk. Louis had gone above and beyond so rather than play catch-up he'd spent the afternoon trying to get ahead for Monday in the hope it might get Faye off his back. He can't afford to let the ball drop, because he might not regret what was said during their heated confrontation but he would like to keep consequences to a minimum until they send her vindictive ass packing.

It's a fight and a problem for another day and he closes his laptop texting Donna to see if she needs anything, not surprised when he doesn't get a response straight back. She's probably sleeping. A _good_ thing he surmises, reminding himself there's no reason to worry. She's taking care of herself and that's the important thing, his concern lighter as he packs up the rest of his belongings.

He decides not to bother Ray as he moves leisurely through the building making his way down to the lobby. It's not quite dark yet and he'd rather walk, knowing the fresh air will help clear the cases circling round in his head. They used to be all he cared about, living and breathing from one win to the next but it's different now. He has a new focus; to get home, unwind and be with the woman who's always meant more than his career. Maybe the circumstances behind him admitting it hadn't been exactly what he'd imagined but he can feel the weight slipping from his shoulders with each ambled block.

The sky transitions to a darker hue as he takes a short detour, picking out a bouquet of yellow roses from a small flower vendor. The brunette behind the counter smiles as she arranges them, adding in some sprigs and fernery to make the colors pop more vibrantly. When she asks if they're for someone special his answering grin says more than any words can and he doesn't care that it's a cliche. Donna's the most important person in his life and he wants her and everyone else to know it, happy to break out the romantic gestures.

He pays with a tip, his mouth still curved as his feet return to their previous path. He might not be a traditional hearts and candies type of guy but Donna's always been the exception his rules and when his phone vibrates he fishes it out, reading the text to say she's good and about to jump in the shower.

He thinks about being smug back but cans the idea, his smile a little less enthusiastic as he picks up the pace. He'd love nothing more than to indulge in his second shower of the day being wrapped around her beneath a hot spray... but he's wary of teasing it after she'd turned him away at breakfast. There could be a thousand reasons why, the simplest that she just wasn't up to it, and he's in no rush but wants to be cautious in case there's more to it than just her being tired.

He tries not to let the thought distract him but still misses the darkness taking over and the clouds that roll in blanketing the stars. By the time he's at her apartment block, a few drops of rain have already dampened his jacket and he hurries inside using his spare key once he arrives at her door.

They step into the lounge at the same time, wet curls tumbling down over her knit sweater and he grins at how they've managed to fall in sync. "Miss me?"

"Always." She smiles, pulling her hair up with a tie and stepping over to the stunning bouquet of roses. It's not the first time he's given her flowers but it is the first without a reason and she smells the fragrance feeling her cheeks warm under his gaze. "They're beautiful, Harvey."

"You're beautiful." He counters, brushing his lips against her temple.

She stills at the contact his compliment making her eyes flutter hesitantly. She doesn't feel beautiful standing without make-up in the bulkiest clothes she could find but rather than let him see the reaction she moves in search of a vase. "How was work?"

He lays the flowers carefully on the table before following, stopping at the doorway to the kitchen and leaning his weight against it with a smirk. "Louis managed to not screw anything up."

"Harvey_._" She fixes him with a stern look but he's already backtracking.

"I'm _kidding_," he admits, having had complete faith in the man. Until Faye stripped him of managing partner Louis had actually been doing a good job and once her bullshit reign is over the man's going to get the title back. "Louis did great," he offers more seriously, "I owe him one."

She's relieved but also concerned Louis had to cover in the first place. Things had been chaotic before she'd left and from what Harvey's saying it obviously hasn't calmed down any. "It's still bad?" She asks, reaching for the top shelf but bringing her arm down when the stretch makes her dizzy. It doesn't last but Harvey's already stepping in to help, retrieving the crystal piece for her.

"Has it ever _not_ been busy?" He points out taking the vase to the sink, sticking it under the faucet and filling it half-way.

"No... " she folds her hands over her chest with a sigh, "but that's not what I meant, and you know it."

He turns off the tap shaking the extra droplets from his fingers as he tilts his gaze back to her. He knows she's worried and truthfully if their roles were reversed he's not sure he could handle being kept out of the loop but she needs to focus on herself and getting better. For a few more days at least. "We can handle it."

His gentle smile does nothing to reassure her, the 'we' part stinging as she trails behind him. She'd excluded herself first but never at the expense of clients or getting the job done and regret weighs heavily as he sets the crystal on the table beside the flowers.

"Donna, believe me... I get it-" he tries to comfort her but at the same time stay steady in his resolve, "but it's only for a couple of weeks."

"Does Faye know that?" She mumbles under her breath, unable to help sounding discouraged. She's grateful for everything Louis did but Faye wrote that email with clear intent and she suspects it isn't over, that the woman's just waiting for a chance to swing out with something else.

"She sure as hell does now." He answers without thinking, regretting it when Donna arches an eyebrow up at him. He hadn't planned to tell her about his confrontation with Faye but it's unavoidable now and he diverts his attention, unwrapping the cellophane taped to the roses. "I kinda lost it when she told me about the six-week thing."

His voice is sheepish and she can only imagine how the argument played out, no doubt making things ten times worse. If he'd waited like she'd asked she could've handled the conversation with Faye herself but surprisingly she isn't mad. He hadn't deliberately set out to inform Faye, he was just trying to do right by the firm, and in a way jumping to her defense is sort of sweet- even if it had been a stupid move. "So she's forgotten about me and wants to fire you instead?"

"Probably Samantha by now." He flinches, knowing he shouldn't make jokes no matter how pissed he'd been over her actions. If Faye ever got wind of what happened with Mike he's sure she'd fire Samantha on the spot but he's determined not to let that happen. They need to stick together now more than ever and he leaves the flowers floating in the vase, turning to settle his palms around Donna's shoulders. "The point is Faye has no grounds to be throwing around ultimatums... and if you're looking for something to do while you're on leave, thinking of a way to get her out would be doing everyone a service of justice."

She leans into his touch with a smirk, "you want me to sit at home scheming?"

"I _want_ you to take it easy," he clarifies, sliding his hands down to her waist with a small tug, "stop worrying so much."

"Afraid I'll go grey." She asks teasing. His gaze glimmers with a quick response and she throws her finger up in warning, "_don't_."

He chuckles softly, enjoying the banter and the feel of her relaxing in his arms. He'd gladly stay just holding her all night but there's a better solution and he motions his head toward where the television is sat. "You want to order some dinner, watch a movie?"

She nods, swallowing as his thumb starts a lazy circle over her waistband. There's no intention behind it but her stomach still flutters nervously and she pulls back forcing a smile. "Yeah, sure."

"Any preference?" He picks up on her flicker of hesitation. It's not an uncommon reaction when reminding her they need to eat. It had been the same this morning and he thinks about mentioning it, asking if she's okay, but he also doesn't want to push. She needs to feel comfortable opening up on her terms so he leaves it with a gentle prompt, "Thai, Chinese, _pizza_-"

"Pizza." She answers, her neck prickling with heat while she waits for him to let go. She doesn't want to give him the wrong impression. It's her need tangled with fear making her uncomfortable in her own skin and when he releases her she places a quick peck against his lips. "I'll find us something to watch."

She leaves him ordering the food, moving to the entertainment unit and skimming her collection of DVDs only half paying attention to the task- wishing she knew how to ease the anxiety rolling through her. Rachel had told her to talk to Harvey but no matter how she phrases the conversation in her head it always comes out wrong. He's gone out of his way to show he cares but she's worried her insecurities will cast doubt over that, make him think she doesn't believe him.

It feels like an impasse and she sighs, deciding on a movie that will hopefully distract him.

"_Really_?"

His voice sounds directly behind her and she holds up the copy of 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid' with a shrug, "why not?"

"Because Mike got you that for Christmas three years ago and it hasn't even been opened yet." He states the obvious raising an eyebrow as she tears through the plastic seal. It's a classic, one of his favorites, but he'd sit watching paint dry if it meant spending time with her and he jokingly motions to the rest of her collection, "come on, wouldn't you rather watch any one of those seven-hundred other crappy chick flicks?"

"I'd rather you stopped complaining about the _only_ time I'm ever going to watch a Western with you." She answers back, her mouth twitching in spite of her worry. His grin is almost enough to make her forget it and she shoos him toward the couch, taking an easier breath as she steps to the player.

He watches her slide the disk in and takes the remote off the table, his eyes following her as she drops down curling her feet up beside him. She rests her head against the arm of the sofa and he tries not to read into the distance as he hits play. It's only fifteen minutes before her socks are making contact anyway, nudging him in search of more space and when he realizes she's fallen asleep he takes them into his lap. She hums something that sounds like approval as she wriggles getting more comfortable and after that he's gone, focusing on her relaxed features and forgetting about the film. She seems completely at ease which only reaffirms what he suspected, that there's something wrong that's been keeping her on edge.

He'd give anything to crawl inside her head and figure out what it is but without the option he has to rely on instinct and is terrified it's something he's doing. If it is and he's making her uncomfortable in any way then he needs to know and when she startles awake suddenly, jumping out of his lap, he takes a deep breath forcing his concern above his fear. "Donna, what's going on?"

"I... _nothing_." She shakes herself, disoriented from having fallen asleep but she can still feel the tingle from his touch at her calf and flushes swallowing thickly, "just dreaming I guess."

It's a lame excuse and they both know it. She couldn't get away from him fast enough and even though he keeps the distance between them he doesn't shy away from pointing it out. "You just dived off me like I'm a leper."

There are trace amounts of hurt beneath the humor, his confusion twisting the guilt knotted in her stomach. "I called Rachel today." It's not an explanation but she's trying to make it the start of one and pulls her knees up watching his frown drop further. "No, I mean... it wasn't like that. She was happy, it's just-" she stumbles over herself not sure how to describe what's bothering her. She'd invited him into her bed, more than once, too exhausted to think about the repercussions and now it seems unfair to hit pause because she isn't comfortable with herself. "I'm still... trying to process everything."

The uncertainty stabs through him but he tries not to let it show, shifting his gaze down to his hands with a nod. It hadn't occurred to him that he might have overstayed his welcome and he quickly clears his throat. "I can go home, give you some space-"

"Harvey, that's not what I want." It's the last conclusion she'd expected him to reach but she can hardly blame him for misunderstanding. "I want this, _us..._ what we've been doing-" she tries to clarify it in a way he'll understand, "but I don't think I'm ready to take things further yet."

He blinks twice, not sure if there's something he's missing or she's really saying what he thinks she is. "Donna, you know I would _never_-"

"I do." She cuts him off before any doubt can take hold. He would never push her but that doesn't mean she isn't afraid of giving the wrong signals or unintentionally leading him on. "It just doesn't seem fair to you that we're sleeping together but not _sleeping_ together."

He's caught off guard again, almost wanting to laugh at how absurd the suggestion is but she's being completely serious and even though he's worried about why she might not be ready, wanting to help in any way he can, he decides to tackle one problem at a time. "You're right... we should probably break up."

Her mouth drops in confusion then closes, then opens again in response to his smirk, "I tell you I'm not ready and _that's_ what you say to me?"

He doesn't show his amusement, mainly because he doesn't want to get punched, but now she's stopped and taken a moment to actually listen he grows more sincere with his reassurance. "Donna, I love you... and the only thing that matters is you feel comfortable. So assuming sex isn't completely off the table I don't care how long we wait... although another decade might be pushing it."

She dips her head with a soft laugh, blinking back the moisture stinging her gaze. She doesn't know how he's become so accomplished in saying the right thing while her words are a choked up mess and she reaches out with her sock giving his leg a gentle nudge. "When did you get so good at this?"

He takes the invitation, letting his thumb skim the band at her ankle. "I started watching Oprah."

She wipes her eyes, leaning into her palm as she stares back at him. "No, you didn't."

"Not on a regular basis." He meets her smile with his own. Truth is when they hadn't been on great terms and, when he wasn't throwing himself into work, he'd been trying to find ways of dealing with her absence. Most of the self-help bs had been a complete waste of time but he likes to think that maybe a thing or two about relationships stuck. "I meant it when I said I wasn't going anywhere," he reminds her gently, "so if you need to slow this down, we can. It's okay."

She doesn't want to, not in the way he's implying but still can't find a way to admit how self-conscious she feels. Maybe it's because she's never shown herself as anything other than confident around him. She's always worn the '_Donna_' title with pride but can't seem to reconcile herself with it at the moment. What she does know is that she's glad he's here and hopefully that's enough for now. "I want you to stay."

The curve of his mouth tells her it is and when the buzzer sounds signaling the arrival of their food she watches him stand, her head sinking back with a content sigh. She wants to give him more, it's just going to take a little time but she loves him too and isn't going anywhere either.

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	15. Chapter 15

**XV.**

Mike glances up from his chair as Harvey enters the dimly lit hotel bar. It's a step above his usual hang-outs in Seattle and it's nice to know some things haven't changed. Harvey Specter still exudes exquisite taste, though Mike decides he looks unusually mussed- hair not _quite _perfect as he lowers himself into the opposite recliner. "You just get out of bed or something?" He quips, a smirk tugging his lips.

Harvey rolls forward lifting the drink Mike pre-empted off the table, "or _something._" He's smug with the response, his Sunday having been spent wrapped up on the couch with Donna while introducing her to Survivor. Usually, any television he watches is while getting ready for work or if he takes a case home he'll spread the files out only half paying attention. Today he'd had no desire to do anything other than relax, explaining the rules and answering her questions. It had been something new for both of them and he'd gotten a little too comfortable, failing to get ready in time and winding up late.

Mike doesn't seem in the least phased though, his gaze warm as it carries across the table.

"Donna's feeling better?" He asks, assuming that's the 'something' Harvey's referring to and honestly, he couldn't be happier. Rachel too. She'd been so relieved after Donna had reached out, prompting him to book a return flight to Seattle but he doesn't want to leave until he's completely sure everything's okay.

Harvey fingers his glass with a nod. After they'd talked and following dinner she'd seemed a lot more at ease, the awkwardness only reappearing shortly before going to bed but it had disappeared the moment he'd sunken his arms around her, inferring there was nothing to worry about. She settled after that, falling asleep quickly, while he'd tried to piece together any reasons that could explain her hesitation; if she's scared about commitment or worried too much is changing? Guessing, however, had proved to be futile and mainly pointless. He's just going to have to wait until she's ready and he takes a sip of scotch, confident that at least physically she's doing better.

Mike raises an eyebrow, his curiosity spilling over as he prompts the man for more information, "so, you guys are...?"

It's left open-ended and honestly, he doesn't know if a label even exists but he and Donna are moving in the right direction and that's all he cares about. "We're figuring it out."

He delivers the ambiguity with a small smile and Mike shakes his head. Since they met asking Harvey anything personal has been like trying to get blood out of a stone but the man's body language, the smirk ghosting his lips, tells Mike that 'figuring it out' is a good thing. "Well, it's about _damn_ time."

He raises his beer and Harvey swallows his amusement, agreeing with him for once. It took a piece of him to get here and truthfully, he doesn't know where he'd be without Mike's support and not just from the past week. "I definitely owe you one, Mike."

"A favor from the _great_ Harvey Specter?" He grins broadly, "I've heard those trade like gold on the black market." The glass in his hand moves back to the table, the bubbles sloshing as he sets it over a coaster. If Harvey hadn't taken a chance on him, he wouldn't have his career or Rachel- the two most important things in his life, which as far as he's concerned is quid pro quo. "I'd say we're even. You did hire me after I dropped a briefcase of weed on your floor."

Harvey scoffs at the memory of the kid scrambling with the supply of drugs but still considers it one of the best decisions he's ever made, even though he has no intention of telling Mike that. "Lucky, cause you would've never made it as a drug peddler."

"It was a faulty lock." He defends, still grinning because in fairness he brought it up first and it's even more reason to be grateful to the man. Sure, it hasn't always been smooth sailing but from day one they've had each other's backs which is why his amusement turns more reserved, needing to make sure he isn't leaving prematurely. "Seriously though, Donna's okay?"

Harvey breathes out a sigh, wishing he could reassure him with complete confidence but Donna has always been strong, if not stubbornly independent. It's going to take time and he's fine with that, he's just scared at some point he's going to screw up. He can't be the reason she slips again, because it would end up destroying both of them. "I don't have a great track record _with_-"

He motions his hand, indicating he's talking about relationships and Mike can see how difficult it is for him... but if there's one thing he has complete faith in, it's that Harvey is going to do whatever it takes to make it work. He might not always get it right but from where Mike's been sitting the man has done a pretty impressive job so far. "I don't know how many times over the years that you've told me Donna is different," he offers sincerely, "I think it's safe to say that still applies here."

Harvey nods appreciating the advice, and taking a rare moment to express exactly what he's thinking, "she means everything to me, Mike."

"Which is why I'm not worried." There's no ounce of hesitation to the comment. He genuinely feels more at ease and lets the humor slip back into his voice, "Rach on the other hand, she's going to grill you worse than Donna's father."

He barks out a small laugh shaking his head. In spite of the circumstances, it's been good having his best friend back in the city. His only regret is that he couldn't return the favor and support Mike more with his case, the apology he's been holding onto finally making its way out."I am sorry about Samantha."

"She's hurting, I get it." Doesn't mean he isn't still pissed but from what he can gather losing Robert would've been the same as when Harvey had lost Jessica and even in a way when he'd moved to Seattle. It had been his decision to go but it had still left a mark and Samantha, like Harvey, hadn't been given a choice. It doesn't excuse what she did but it does make him slightly more understanding. "Not sure I'd rush into a burning building to save her anytime soon."

Harvey snorts into his glass but if it were an actual scenario Mike wouldn't hesitate and it's one of the reasons he's always respected the lawyer. To Mike, doing the right thing has always trumped winning and maybe it's the kid's bad influence but he's starting to see things from the same point of view. "Yeah, you _would_."

Mike picks up his beer in protest but doesn't disagree, smirking over his drink, "only because a favor from her is less gold and more... here's an organ, don't ask questions."

Harvey grins at the comparison, the pup not wrong. Samantha may have some cutthroat tendencies but from what he's seen, win over her trust and she's a force to be reckoned with. "She's certainly something," he admits, finishing the last of the amber liquid and motioning to the waiter for a second. "So, no chance of moving back to NYC then?"

"From what I've heard, I'm the last person Faye would ever considering hiring." He hasn't exactly shown a good moral standing by being a fake lawyer but even if there were a job going he loves his life in Seattle. He has everything he's ever wanted there and the only thing missing might not be for much longer, making him smile. "The other day Rachel and I were talking... we're thinking of trying for a baby." He glances up hesitantly. It's still early in her career and there's a lot to figure out but to his surprise, Harvey's eyes seem to fill with genuine happiness.

"That's great Mike." Truthfully he's been waiting for news, expecting it would happen sooner rather than later, and the kid deserves nothing less than a family of his own but that doesn't stop him cracking a joke about it."You being a _goddamn_ father..." he teases, showing no shame, "you're gonna wanna start proofing those 'faulty' locks "

Mike grins, knowing he's never going to hear the end of it but is quick with his own comeback, "you might want to lose the attitude old man, Louis is looking pretty good for godfather right now. Although you can tell Donna she's a given."

He winks and it spreads a warmth through Harvey's chest, the idea of he and Donna being coupled in their best friend's lives something he hadn't considered before. The future has always been an enigma to him but now the path seems lit up with possibilities and he knows he's exactly where he's supposed to be.

It rears the urge to call his mother, all the talk of family making him a little sentimental and because he'd promised to let her know about Donna. He'd wanted to wait until he had good news to share and since he does he's eager to fill her in but not tonight. For the first time in a long while he's going to relax with his best friend, knock back a few drinks and enjoy what it feels like to be content.

_Happy_, he decides... daring to admit it to himself, ready to hold on and never let it go.

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	16. Chapter 16

**XVI.**

The inside of the cafe is cold, despite the sun beaming in the large bay window, and Donna tugs her cardigan tighter, watching the steady stream of people outside. They all seem to be going somewhere important, moving with fast and determined strides, making her long for routine and structure. She had to take this time out, fully aware she'd lost sight of herself, but the need to be grounded in something familiar again is overwhelming.

She's nervous, scared of what she's going to face once she starts work again. Faye is one of her main concerns, but there's also the friends she'd left in the dark. People like Louis, who had reached out and whom she'd pushed away. It's a daunting feeling because she can't go back and pretend like nothing happened, but after her first therapy session today, she's not sure she wants to.

It had been confronting but also revealing and Dr. Michael Goodwin had lived up to his reputation. The lanky man hadn't demanded anything, just probed tidbits of information here and there while creating a safe environment that had encouraged words to flow freely. She knew she was being profiled, her ability to read people just as transparent as anyone with a degree, but being aware of it, knowing she was in control, had made it easier to engage.

They'd spoken about her job and the stresses it entailed, had skirted around things like relationships and her recent hospital stay. Dr. Goodwin had seemed more focused on her current state of mind, what she's going through now, and letting the rest come naturally. It was like having a sounding board for her thoughts, advice she would usually give to other people being bounced back, and when the hour had passed she'd felt comfortable making a second appointment.

She's proud of herself, almost a little euphoric as she lifts up the decaf latte she'd ordered. Physically she's feeling better but is taking her doctor's advice, keeping her body clean from stimulants so she can absorb the benefits of her body's recovery. She's been staying awake longer during the day, eating more and rewarding herself for small accomplishments, but the untouched muffin sat on her plate is a reminder her appetite isn't where it should be.

She might have achieved something today but there's still a sense of guilt pitted in her stomach, aware of the pressure she's putting everyone else under. Louis is dealing with her work-load, Rachel has been calling every second day to check up on her, and Harvey is placing his own needs aside to take care of her. He'd come up more than anyone else in her session because truthfully, he's the reason why she'd felt able to go there in the first place.

Harvey once claimed that she made him a better person, that he couldn't be himself without her, and now he's repaying the favor ten-fold. For a man who'd previously seemed to have limited access to his feelings, they've opened up like a dam breaking, and she wants to give him everything in return but isn't there yet.

She has unwavering faith in him, but doesn't trust herself, haunted by how she'd let everything fall apart. She's hoping Dr. Goodwin will be able to help her address those feelings, shine a light on what she's been afraid to see until now- that people make mistakes.

To err is human, to forgive is divine.

It's something she's never had to apply to herself before, but the words ring in her head as a shadowy figure descends above her.

The waiter hovers there, a polished smile interrupting her thoughts. "Excuse me, ma'am. May I take that for you?"

She glances down at the muffin, confused by why he's asking when she hasn't even touched it, but his eagerness shouldn't really come as a surprise. Most of the clientele seated around are wafer thin, probably models or actresses just here to give the illusion they're having a regular meal, and she briefly wonders if that's why she never landed roles outside the theatre.

Up until recently she's always been confident and proud of herself, never missing a beat, and she searches for that part of herself, turning him away. "Actually, I'm not done yet."

Her lips curve in the same forced manner, and he looks confused but she really doesn't care about his judgment. She's willing to sit here for as long as it takes until she finishes on her own terms, not anyone else's. It's a newfound strength she's not giving up any time soon and when he leaves, she relaxes, breaking off a bite and swallowing it down with her coffee.

She's taking the wins where she can get them, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem to everybody else.

.

* * *

.

It's late and Harvey debates whether or not to call his mother now or leave it, knowing it was Donna's first therapy session today. He can remember how confronting his own had been, and he wants to be there to support her, but he promised Lily he'd get in touch once things were back on track, and he finally feels like things are heading in the right direction.

He can spare a few minutes and pulls out his phone, dialing her number.

_Lily stops in the hall, delighted at seeing her son's name on the caller ID. After the last time they'd spoke, she'd been left with a sense of growing unease. He'd seemed so lost, not himself, and she picks up praying with her whole heart nothing is wrong. "Harvey, I've been hoping you'd call."_

He smiles lightly against the phone. Having his mother back in his life is something he's never going to take for granted again. She's family, so is Donna, and he feels calmer knowing the two women he cares about most are within his reach.

_"Is everything__ okay?"_

Her voice breaks the silence, sounding concerned, and he's happy he can reassure her. "It is."

_The__ words__ swell inside her,__ and she enters the nearest room to focus her attention on the conversation. She'd missed out on so much when they were estranged, she wants to be here with him now, and she seats herself on the chaise at the end of the bed, curling her legs up. She's not going to jump to any conclusions but he sounds at composed, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and she's willing to bet she can guess the cause. "How is Donna doing?"_

He hesitates, only for a second, jarred into a reality where he's allowed to be open with his emotions. He's spent so long pushing them down and things aren't perfect but they're damn near closer than they were a few weeks ago. Just thinking about Donna fills him with an all consuming warmth, and he's cautiously optimistic that they're going to break through those final few barriers as long as he's patient with her. "She's getting the help she needs."

_Lily's shoulders sag with relief. Hearing someone so close to him was struggling had made her heart ache, particularly knowing Donna is a person incredibly special to him. "I'm really glad to hear that_."

"There's more." He admits, pushing up from his chair and turning to the city skyline. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought this kind of relationship with his mother would be possible, one where he can tell her his inner thoughts, but thanks to Donna, he can. She'd urged him to let go of the past and now all he can see is a future filled with promise.

"I told her how I feel..." he pauses, working his way around spilling the truth, "we're together now."

_She closes her eyes, reveling in the news. It's how she'd hoped things would turn out, but there's a motherly instinct inside her that rears up in spite of her positivity. When they last spoke Donna wasn't in a good place, and she's conscious of things moving too quickly between the pair but also doesn't want to create any animosity. "I'm __so proud of you, Harvey."_

He expects more to follow, and when it doesn't, alarm bells sound off. His mother's never been shy about her opinions, and he tenses, angling away from the window. "What is it?"

_Part of her wants to tell him it's nothing. They're on good terms at the moment and she doesn't want to rock the boat, but lying has always created a vast chasm between them. She owes it to both of them to be honest and clenches her grip around the phone in anticipation. "I'm just a little worried now isn't the right time to be starting something."_

The advice cuts straight through him because she's wrong, but that's his first instinct, and he takes a breath, aware if they were talking about anybody else he might be inclined to listen. The difference is, this is Donna. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for her. Including giving her space if she asked for it. She's picking herself back up from a low he can't even comprehend and they're in this together, her needs outweighing his own at the moment. "I can handle it."

_He's surprisingly calm, and Lily meets him half-way only wanting what's best for the two of them. "I'm not saying you can't... but are you sure Donna can?"__ She has nothing against the woman. In fact, it's the opposite. She wants Donna to take the time she needs to recover because relationships can be stressful, and she's rooting for the pair to be together for the long haul. "I just want you to be careful, that's all."_

He tries not to take offense but can't help it. Donna was in his life when his mother wasn't. She's his everything, and he's spent over a decade being careful. This is when he needs to step up, but if his mother can't understand that, then he has nothing more to say on the matter. "I should go."

_The clipped response is what she's been afraid of, and the very same reason she has her reservations. Donna needs stability, but Lily's willing to accept that his reaction is based on their own tremulous history. The test is going to be whether or not he can move past it, and she genuinely hopes he can. "Harvey, I'd really love to meet her."_

He swallows, closing his eyes and nodding at the extended olive branch. Her comments had hit a nerve because even though he has faith in Donna, he lacks it in himself, but he has support- from Mike, Louis, and everybody else in his life, including his mother. He just needs to lean on it. "I'd like that, Mom."

_Lily smiles into the phone, her doubts fading beneath his soft response. Honestly, she wasn't expecting it, and when he suggests she make a trip down, her reservations fall away beneath a desire to meet the woman who has grown her son in ways she's can only be proud of_.

_Love isn't always easy. __She'd learned the hard way, but when it's right, it defies all else, and when he hangs up, she's safe in the knowledge that with or without her help, her son is on the right path._

He slips the phone back into his pocket, collecting the rest of his things together, mulling over his mother's words but letting them wash over him. The best thing he can do is prove she has nothing to worry about because he's in love with Donna.

She's the one, and there isn't a doubt in his mind they can overcome anything together.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rated: M**

**AN/Warnings: **Nothing too heavy but there is an implication of non-consensual sex. I wanted to throw a warning in just to be on the safe side :)

* * *

**XVII.**

Donna takes a deep and unsteady breath, staring at Harvey's front door. She's not the kind of person who balks at difficult decisions. Or at least never used to be, and she wipes her eyes, making sure they're finally dry.

Lily had passed suddenly.

A heart attack while she was teaching one of her art classes- doing what she loved, which is only a small comfort to Donna.

Although she'd never met the woman, tears of empathy had poured out after talking to Marcus. She'd been in the kitchen when he'd called, making lunch and preparing for her leave to end. She'd been both excited and nervous over the prospect of going back to work, but things had finally seemed like they were on the upward swing when Harvey's brother had delivered the shocking news.

She'd abandoned the food not able to stomach it. For the first time in over a decade, Marcus had reached out to her _after_ his immediate family. Harvey knew something before she did, and while that hadn't been important, the repeated sound of his answering service clicking over had left her unsure what to do.

She'd waited, hoping he would get in touch, but her phone had remained dark, the screen only lighting up with her failed attempts to contact him.

She'd left things as long as she could, in case he needed some space, but concern drove her here, and she braces herself against whatever is waiting inside. She doesn't knock, using her key instead. If Harvey had wanted her here, he would have asked, but that doesn't deter her from entering. She's always anticipated his needs better than he can decipher them, and she blinks at the darkness drenching his apartment. For a moment she thinks he might not even be home, but then the stale smell of whiskey washes over her, and she notices a soft glow coming from around the corner.

She shuts the door, her feet leading cautiously to where he's sat hunched on the couch. There's a near-empty bottle of Macallan with no glass on the coffee table, and she's not sure if he even registers her presence, but he doesn't so much as flinch when she sits beside him.

"I'm _so _sorry, Harvey."

A rough sound escapes his throat, something her heart can't digest.

She knows he's in pain and tentatively reaches out, running her hand over his shoulder and guiding him towards her. He doesn't resist, his damp lashes fluttering against the crook of her neck, and she squeezes him tightly.

She's never lost a parent and he's lost both. She can't imagine the sense of isolation he's feeling, but he isn't alone. She's here. Ready to help however she can.

He breathes in her scent with a shudder, the familiarity almost too much to handle. He's drunk, on the verge of letting the flood gates open, but he isn't ready for it to all come barreling out. Years of estrangement and anger, grieving his father, and now his mother- it's all buried too deeply. He forgave Lily but there are still words that were left unsaid, things he'll never get the chance to say that threaten his flimsy composure. He's teetering on the brink of losing it, and pushes Donna's arms down, trapped like a deer caught in headlights under her pleading gaze.

_Don't shut her out._ That's what she's silently begging, and the pressure is suffocating, causing something inside him to snap. She's all he has left in this world. He can't lose her too and seeks out her lips, prising them open and drowning himself inside her mouth. She gasps at the force but he swallows the burst of air doing anything he can to tune out his loss. He sinks on-top of her, pushing down with his weight and withdrawing his tongue in a desperate bid to seek out more. He lands at her neck, scraping his teeth over the exposed skin and sucking her pulse point, groaning as desire replaces the emptiness that's been pitted in his chest all night.

Donna closes her eyes tightly, trying to calm the panic racing through her. His touch is like fire setting her needs alight, but fear is at the helm of her hesitation. She wants to do this for him, _with him_. It's just sex, but her body feels small and inadequate, ambushed beneath his powerful muscles. The last time they did this she'd exuded confidence, brandishing a can of whipped cream like it was a trophy to be won. Now he's moving so fast she can barely keep up, her hands shaking with nowhere to go. He steals them, pinning her wrists into the cushions as he covers her mouth again, and she kisses him back, willing herself to be okay with what's happening

She loves him.

_Trusts_ him.

Her insecurities shouldn't matter when they're here like this, and she tries not to wince when he slides roughly under her sweater, raking over her jutting ribs. He's either too drunk or doesn't care that they're more prominent, but _she_ knows and can't chase the thought out of her head. She counts down in an attempt to disassociate her nerves, telling herself he needs this. A moment outside his pain where he doesn't have to think, only feel. It's within her power to give it to him but she has to relax, focus on finding a respite like he is.

He bunches the knit jumper, his mouth hungry as it devours anywhere he can access. She's perfect beneath him, the yearning to hold something tangible stronger than anything else he can comprehend. Her presence is intoxicating and a dull throb aches inside his trousers. If it weren't for the alcohol at play in his system he'd already be rock hard, and he gropes the swell of her breasts knowing he can get himself there.

A dryness burns her throat as his crotch starts to stiffen, and she breathes in, heat pooling between her legs out of its own violation. Her heart wants to give in but her mind is stuck on how his large hands are dwarfing her chest. When his thumb slips beneath her gapping bra, grazing and pinching her nipple, air stalls in her lungs and she trembles, forcing it out with an involuntary sob.

The sound is loud enough to startle him, his gaze lifting in confusion, and there's no way she can mask it as a sound derived from pleasure.

He knows it wasn't.

His face contorts like it's been hit by a freight train, and he jumps off her so fast he stumbles, knocking violently into the coffee table and sending the objects on its surface flying. The whiskey bottle smashes on impact but he doesn't register the breaking glass or the pain pulsing through his knee.

"Jesus _Christ_, Donna!" He snaps at her, anguish manifesting as anger and twisting around his guilt. She should have _goddamn_ said something and he despises the small voice that hammers through with a reminder she did. Only a few days ago she'd told him she wasn't ready, and he'd just forced himself on her. It makes him physically sick, and he tears a hand through his hair, swallowing the bile that washes up in his throat.

The turmoil he's in cuts deeper than anything else and she hates herself for complicating what he's going through. He didn't do anything wrong. She's the one who put them in this situation. She's letting _him_ down, not the other way around. "I _wanted_ to, Harvey."

The determination behind her voice almost makes him believe it, but one look at her glistening tears tells him it's bullshit. She's doing it again. Putting his needs above hers and he can't do this. He's not strong enough to look after both of them, too fucking broken to piece it all back together.

"You should go."

He turns to where his phone had been flung, presumably to call for a cab, and she hunches up on her knees steeling herself against his stubbornness. This isn't about whether or not they have sex. He's hurting, and she wants to be here for him like he's been there for her the past few weeks. "I'm not going anywhere."

The insistence doesn't stall his momentum, and she works herself off the couch, reaching to stop him from unlocking the screen. When she'd been at her worst, her instinct had been to push him away, convinced she could handle everything on her own, but she couldn't, and so much has changed between them since then.

"I _love_ you, Harvey." She says it out loud for the first time, hoping the words will lift his gaze, but his eyes stay locked on the device, and her attention drops to where his knuckles are turning white. He's fighting so hard not to let go, but bottling it all up will only make things worse, and she slides her thumb across the taut ridges, coaxing him back to her. "Let me take care of you."

A lump swells in place of any response, flashes of her pinned beneath him refuting the overpowering urge to bury himself in her arms. She hadn't just been uncomfortable. The choked sob that had spilled free sounded terrified and it rings in his ears making him pull out of her grasp. Lily had warned him about rushing into a relationship. The older woman had been afraid Donna wasn't ready, that he wouldn't be able to handle it, and knowing it's the last piece of advice his mother will ever give him burns through his chest with a vengeance.

"How, Donna?" He asks, slamming her with his bitterness. "You can't even take _goddamn _care of yourself!"

She recoils from the hurtful anger, upset and rattled, but that's not why she distances herself. Even if he is drunkenly spilling the truth, and does see her as a burden, that's not the real reason he's pushing her away. He's doing it to punish himself and reading him so clearly, ironically, gives her the confidence to keep from unraveling in front of him. "You're right. I should go."

She isn't agreeing out of retaliation or to stir a reaction. She knows full well he won't try to stop her and there's no room for misinterpretation as she turns on her heel. As much as it's killing her to walk away, staying will only end in a fight that will fuel his hatred of himself come the morning. It's better they finish this now before they both say something they'll regret.

He stands motionless, his facade slipping beneath a harrowing sense of loss as he watches her leave. It feels like someone ripped his heart open, covered it with a band-aid, then tore it off again. The cold is real, seeping out as if he were slowly bleeding to death, and when the door closes softly, it shatters his frozen veins. He'd promised himself he would show Lily she had nothing to worry about. That Donna being his entire world would keep him from fucking things up, but he managed to screw all three of them over, and he doesn't know which is more painful.

That he just lost everything.

Or that he thought he was worthy of having it all to begin with.

* * *

Donna walks through the door to her apartment, a heaviness carrying her into the living room, and a twitch of regret makes her pull out her phone. One of Harvey's biggest fears is people leaving him, but she hadn't acted out of spite. She truly believes this is what he needs right now and sighs, glancing towards the kitchen, his accusation still playing on her mind.

_You can't even take care of your goddamn self!_

She winces, her stomach growling despite being wound in a tight knot. Not so long ago she wouldn't have bothered to rectify it, going to bed and choosing to sleep instead, but she forces herself through the archway, finding the sandwich she'd abandoned hours earlier and taking the plate out to the sofa.

The lack of freshness doesn't put her off. At least no more than the thought of eating something does, but a few bites in settles her nausea. There's nothing but crumbs left when Mike's name suddenly flashes up on her phone, and she answers, figuring his calls are being screened by Harvey as well. "He just needs some space, Mike."

_It's not the reassurance Mike was hoping for and he nods against the receiver, silently cursing his best friend's stubbornness. He'd thought for sure Harvey would let Donna be there for him, but judging by the exhaustion in her voice, that's not the case. "Is he there?"_

"No. He's not."

_The confirmation propels his worry, and not just for Harvey. The man is suffering, and he feels for the guy, but he's also witnessed how Harvey deals with things. He lashes out and doesn't always think about how those consequences affect the people around him. "Donna, are you okay?"_

Her eyes flutter closed, wishing he didn't have to ask. She used to always be okay no matter what Harvey threw at her, but now he and everyone else, including Mike, are looking at her differently. Like she's frail. But that isn't how she feels, not anymore. Every day another piece of the puzzle clicks into place, making her stronger, but she needs people to start trusting her again. "I'm fine."

A heavy silence hangs over the line, and she glances at the empty plate across from her, willing to accept she's also to blame. The lie has been used too many times for it to go unquestioned. If she wants Mike to have faith in her, she needs to be completely honest, not skirt around the sidelines. "Will be." She corrects, adopting a small smile. "I know I scared you, Mike, and I never wanted that, believe me," she exhales slowly, "but I figured out what's important along the way. Family is everything and I'm not planning on letting that go."

_He's both touched and relieved by the promise, recognizing a strength and determination that was missing when he'd visited New York. It eases some of his concern, knowing that whatever Harvey's going through, having the new-old Donna back can only be a good thing. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that."_

The strain around his tone softens giving her plenty of insight. He's been a constant support, and she's going to do what she can to return the favor. "I'll let you know when to call him."

_"Thanks, Donna." His lips curve around the phone, and he glances at Rachel, who's sitting across from him, shrugging with wide, curious eyes. It makes him chuckle. "Hey, I've got someone here who I 'think' wants to talk to you." _

Donna hears the playful slap across the line, eagerly awaiting to hear Rachel's voice. She's not sure how much detail she wants to give about everything that happened tonight. She hasn't fully processed it all herself, but the moment Rach asks if she's okay, the words start spilling out, and she remembers why the brunette is her best friend.

Like she'd just told Mike, they're a family.

At one time or another they all need help putting the pieces back together.


	18. Chapter 18

Harvey wakes to the smell of smoke, panic closing around his senses as he shoots up in bed. His head is pounding and he feels like shit, the feeling blanketing any potential danger. Instead of rushing to the sound the fire alarm is creating, he's flooded by memories of the night before, and instantly wants to throw up.

_Fuck_.

He's half tempted to let the place burn. It would be easier than facing the reality of losing his mother and simpler than dealing with the guilt of how he'd treated Donna but survival instinct, or the nearest thing he has to it, kicks in.

He forces himself off the bed, catching himself on several pieces of furniture to steady himself. The room is spinning and his legs don't feel like they're attached to his body but the incessant beeping drives him forward, and he stumbles into the open plan apartment, his heart lurching as his eyes fall on Donna.

She's stood waving a tea-towel, trying to disperse the smoke coming from a pan of something crispy and charcoal, and if he wasn't in complete shock, the whole thing would almost be amusing. It isn't though. Nothing about this is funny, and he rights himself, moving to take the cloth from her hand so he can at least stop the noise drilling through his sanity.

It cuts off abruptly, plunging them into silence, and his gaze shifts to the bench that's adorned with coffee, juice, pastries and several pieces of bread ranging from lightly toasted to singed. He doesn't understand what the hell is going on, and his jaw firms on instinct as his eyes move back to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wasn't deliberately trying to burn down your apartment, if that's what you're thinking." She tries to lighten the mood, but the attempt fails doing nothing to cut through the tension. Honestly, she'd expected the reaction. He's never dealt well with being caught off guard, and although she hadn't intended to wake him so abruptly, this was always in the cards. But just because something is hard it doesn't mean they simply give up. His words had stung, but after talking to Rachel, she'd realized why he'd been so angry. Relationships are about compromises, not self-sacrificing, and maybe they care about each too much sometimes. They react to protect each other without discussing it first, and that's the position she'd put him in last night. It wasn't fair on either of them, and she's more serious as she angles her body toward him. "I'm here to apologize."

He frowns, confused by why she would ever think what happened was her fault. He was the one who'd gotten blind drunk and almost taken advantage of her. Then he'd been nothing short of cruel when he'd told her to leave. The only reason he can justify her being here is out of pity which stirs his anger.

"_Donna-_"

"Let me finish." She pushes a mug of coffee towards him, shutting down his aggression. She's not giving him a free pass. They both made mistakes, but given the circumstances, all she wants to do is focus on the smaller and more accessible truths. "Tell me honestly, do you want me to leave right now?"

He opens his mouth and closes it again. There isn't much he can remember after she'd walked out on him, but what he can recall had been bad. It was a low he hasn't experienced before, and he _never _wants to feel again, but it doesn't feel right that she's here just because his mother died. He's responsible for his actions, and moves himself to the nearest stool, collapsing his weight onto it and burying his head in hand.

The reaction softens her expression, aware that the struggle he's going through is more than he can handle, and she edges around the counter, pushing down his palm and replacing it with her own. He glances up, his eyes betraying the pain he's in, and she strokes her thumb softly against his cheek. "I can call you an ass if it helps."

It's not funny, and he hates the part of himself that gives in so freely. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do." She challenges, perplexed by the fact he can't see something so obvious. If it wasn't for him she might not even be here right now. Her hospital stay had opened her eyes to a lot of things, and they could tally up fifteen years worth of bad choices, but it's always going to lead them back to a blank slate because forever is a long time to keep score. The important thing is they're together, and neither of them are going anywhere, no matter how hard things get. "It's going to be okay."

He leans into her palm, accepting the comforted he'd denied himself yesterday, the throb in his temple another reminder he hadn't handled things the way he should have. Getting blind drunk had been a mistake, and he sucks in a sharp breath, moisture catching on his lashes. He still can't believe she's making this so easy and regret pools in his chest.

When he'd found out about Lily he doesn't know how many times his finger had been poised over the speed-dial ready to call Donna, but as selfish as it is, part of him had been acting out of spite. He'd felt the crushing blow of losing his mother without her there. She was _always_ there, and her absence had reinforced his doubts from the last conversation he'd had with Lily. That things would spiral out of his control, and he wouldn't be able to handle it.

He'd reacted badly and is ashamed, but Donna's gentle touch doesn't waver, and he needs to fill in the blanks to piece together what his alcohol soaked memory can't recall. "Marcus told you?"

She nods, dropping her fingers to rest against his knee. She'd had her suspicions about why his younger brother didn't call her first, and she moves in front of Harvey, sitting on the stool opposite him. "He was concerned... about me as well, apparently."

There's a curious note to the comment, and he doesn't see any point trying to hide the truth. "I called Lilly when I wasn't sure what to do about..." he stops, catching her gaze, "when I was worried about you."

She blinks, surprised by the admission. After their failed attempt to work on the Murdoch case he'd kept his distance, and it wasn't until he'd confronted her about Louis that he'd opened up, revealing how afraid he'd been. She hadn't thought about him struggling before then, and her face pales with guilt as she withdraws her hand. "I never _meant-_"

"I know." His expression softens, and he can feel the tables turning. They're both dealing with so much guilt but he's been so focused on the last conversation with Lily, he hadn't even stopped to consider all the ones they'd had before that, including when he'd first told her about Donna. "She was a big fan of yours."

"Isn't everybody?" She jokes, only to disguise the tears forming in her eyes, but he brushes them away before she can reach them.

"I'm sorry, too." His eyes grow darker, feeling sick to his stomach thinking about how scared she'd been last night. The fear might not have been aimed directly at him, but his actions had caused her distress, and he'll never be able to properly forgive himself for what happened. "There's no excuse for how I behaved."

She closes her eyes, wishing she could tell him that she'd honestly wanted to go through with it. In the very least explain why she couldn't, but now isn't the time. He needs to call his brother back and Mike, then they have to start preparing the funeral arrangements. "You need to shower."

She smiles, and he knows she isn't upset or angry, but this is something they need to talk about. Maybe not today, but at some point soon. For the moment, he's just grateful she's here, and he swallows the lump in his throat, placing a kiss against her temple.

They'll get through this and he knows if Lily can somehow see them now, she's able to understand that even if they're not ready, he and Donna will find their way despite the odds.

* * *

**AN: **It's short I know, and the next update will take a little longer but I have a few other things on the go which will hopefully make up for it! Do I get points for not leaving it on a cliffhanger? :P


	19. Chapter 19

**XIX.**

Donna steals a breath as the sun washes over her face, watching Harvey across the back lawn of his mother's house. Samantha, Louis and Mike are all off to the side, grouped under the shade of a large elm, and she collects her thoughts, readying herself to join them. At first, she'd been nervous about seeing everyone, but she'd kept the fear to herself, and the initial awkwardness had vanished once Louis pulled her into a tight hug.

From then on she'd set her focus on Harvey, making sure she was there when he needed her, and keeping things running on the sidelines. After he'd given his eulogy at the funeral, he hadn't let go of her hand, the only sign he was crumbling under the weight of his loss, but when they'd spilled into the familiar surroundings of his childhood home, his grip had loosened, and she'd found herself gravitating to any problems that arose—ensuring he and his family, didn't have to deal with the short supply of salmon, lost coats, children wanting to play games, and anything else that had cropped up as a potential disturbance. But the caterers have left, the guests still lingering are serving themselves, and Harvey's shed enough grief to face their condolences. He's going to be okay, and she feels better having had a sense of purpose through the day, even though the circumstances have cast a heavy shadow over the achievement. At least she's managed to be useful, the accomplishment recognised when Marcus steps into her path with a small smile.

She's careful of the plate in his hand as she pulls him into a hug, her cheeks warming as he vocalizes the gesture. "You've been amazing, Donna, thank you." He honestly isn't sure how he would have coped without her around, and still isn't sure how she managed to get everything done while being a constant pillar of support for his brother, but he's also cautious of his late mother's concern. Lily had been worried about the redhead, admitting Harvey confessed she'd been going through a difficult time, and he separates them, offering her the selection of sandwiches he'd brought over. "You're run off your feet, you should eat something."

She takes the plate, wanting to avoid any scrutiny, and because he's right. Food has been low on her priority list since arriving in Boston, but she'd rather not draw attention to the fact, and brushes off the worry present in his gaze. "You can take the boy out of the restaurant…"

Her mouth curves softly, and he relaxes, glancing over at Harvey. "And the lawyer out of New York, it seems," he comments. If he's being honest, he's had his doubts about how his brother would handle coming home, which is why he'd reached out to Donna. She's the only one who's ever been able to wrangle Harvey. He'd learnt early on, if he ever really needed the man to listen, she was the person to go through, and he's struck by how easy it's always been to open up to her. She's supported him without fail every time—loyal to Harvey but not letting his stubbornness sever the tremulous relations hanging by a thread. She's helped rebuild his family and as far as he's concerned, she's part of it. And no matter what's been going on in recent weeks, he knows his mother would have felt the same way. "She was so proud of that idiot for finally figuring things out." He dips his gaze back to Donna, wishing the two women could have met in person, but taking comfort from the fact Lily had gotten to see her eldest son happy. "You have no idea what that meant to her."

A rush of emotion catches in her throat, and she swallows thickly, touched by his kindness. Harvey had admitted he reached out to his mother when he was struggling, and knowing she was the cause of his anxiety had left her riddled with assumptions over how Lily had perceived her. She wouldn't have blamed the woman if she'd warned Harvey to streer clear, but hearing Marcus' words help settle her doubts, and she's quick to give Harvey the credit he deserves. "You should be proud of him, too. Things haven't exactly been... easy, recently, but he's been great, Marcus."

She bows her head absently toward the food between her hands, and he guesses from the direction of her silence, now isn't the time to press for more details. He doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, but he is proud of his brother. Whatever's been happening, Harvey obviously came to his senses to help see her through, but after years of missing what was right in front of him, Marcus suspects it took a lot for Donna to give the man a second chance, and he reaches out, giving her arm a comforting squeeze. "If you ask me, he's the lucky one."

She graciously accepts the compliment because, true or not, today is about reassuring both Specter brothers. The two men have suffered enough grief, and she smiles gently, eyeing Harvey over his shoulder, knowing it's time for the pair to take a breather and check in with each other. "I'll tell him to come find you."

Marcus stills, surprised she can read his thoughts so easily, and it's not that he couldn't have approached Harvey—he just wanted to make sure the man was good to talk first. But her intuition leaves him feeling more sure of himself. "Thanks, Donna." She moves around him, silent assurance guiding her across the lawn, and a relieved sigh pulls from his lips, the weight resting in his pocket urging him towards the kitchen.

He needs a beer to wash away his hesitation, in the least to ease the tension pulled tightly through his muscles, and if nothing else, to give himself a few moments reprieve from a day that's taken its toll.

…

Donna waits for Harvey to finish with the older couple he's talking to, his shoulders hunched with tension as they shuffle off, and she steps up, brushing her fingers along the inside of his elbow. "Hey." She feels him relax, his gaze tipping down with a small, tired smile, and she slips the plate she's holding in front of him. "I thought you might be hungry."

He winces at the array of sandwiches, his stomach repelling the idea of food, but she takes one for herself and he feels obliged to do the same, relieved it hadn't slipped her mind to eat something. The taste of egg mixed with rocket washes around his pallet, and he forces the unpleasant sensation down with three bites, wishing he had liquid to wash away another one with. "You want to go inside, get a drink?"

She shakes her head, delivering her concern gently. "Marcus was looking for you, why don't you go have a beer with him?"

The suggestion isn't the worst idea. He'd caught up with his brother briefly before the funeral, and they'd been close to each other most of the day, but they hadn't really had a chance to talk without interruptions—and he picks up another sandwich, taking a moment to check over Donna. She seems fine and has been a constant source of support, but it's been a hard afternoon on all of them, and he glides his free hand over her shoulder, stealing his own comfort from the touch. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She catches his fingers, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I'll check in with Mike and the others."

He's suddenly reluctant to let her go, not because he's worried, but because he'd rather be somewhere else with her. At home, in the quiet of his apartment, or hers—it doesn't really matter. But Marcus is dealing with the same grief, and he pushes his own down, pressing his lips to her temple. "I'll come find you when we're done."

He turns out of the sun, peering up at the house in front of him—a place that, if he's honest, hasn't felt like home in a long time. But being here, surrounded by people who adored Lily, his friends, family, has brought more memories forward. Happier ones, and if it weren't for Donna, he wouldn't even have those to hold on to. As hard as it's been, and no matter how guilty he feels for not making amends with Lily sooner, he's getting through, even their last conversation, one he's trying to view in a different light. He'd been frustrated by her opinion, and he regrets being so rash now, but their last words hadn't been fuelled with any resentment. They were looking towards the future, and a lump rises in his throat as he pushes into the kitchen, swallowing it down when he spots Marcus leaning against the counter, nursing a beer.

"Hey, loser."

Harvey snorts, but the affectionate term helps soften the loss he's feeling, and he moves to the fridge, thankful someone—probably Donna—had the sense to stock it with something other than the shitty ale his brother drinks. He takes out a bottle of larger, closing the door and twisting off the cap and tossing it in the bin as he stands opposite the younger man. "You good?"

"Yeah…" He nods."You?" Harvey motions with the same gesture, and Marcus takes a sip of his drink, trusting the assurance, even though he knows there's tension buried beneath the claim. But the rigid set of Harvey's shoulders doesn't hold the same defensiveness the man had worn when their father passed several years ago. Marcus hadn't even been sure Harvey would turn up to the funeral, and he'd had flickering doubts this time too, but Donna had settled his fears, promising he wouldn't have to face his grief alone. He hadn't questioned putting his faith in her, and leans on his relief to break the ice."Donna's been…" He shakes his head, not sure there are even words to describe everything she's done for their family—today especially. From taking care of Harvey, to wrangling his kids, while doing a thousand other things… She's been a godsend. "How exactly does she do that?"

Harvey reads both the confusion and amazement in his brother's expression but doesn't have to ask what the reaction means. He's never had to tell Donna to do anything. Since the day she started at his desk, she's always been able to anticipate his needs. At first he'd assumed it was because she was into him—a picture of his younger, arrogant self filling his head—but she'd proven he wasn't a special case and, like an asshole, he'd made a show of expecting her to do things without him having to ask. He'd taken her for granted, but now he knows better than to make that same mistake again. She's the most important person in the world to him, and he's never going to diminish what she's capable of, his mouth tipping up proudly. "I've been asking myself the same thing for years."

"You know she's way out of your league, right?" Marcus quips, teasing Harvey with the easy banter. They haven't always been close, but they're blood which has kept them in each other's orbit, and he isn't surprised when his brother playfully ribs him back.

"You mean out of your league?" A smirk winds across his mouth, but he's more than aware how lucky he is.

He's found the person he's going to be with forever, and takes a sip of beer, silently hoping Marcus will find the same sense of peace. He's still secretly rooting for the man to patch things up with Katie, but love is complicated. And before he can ask about the woman, Marcus clears his throat, jumping in first with a more serious expression.

"Mom mentioned a couple of things…" He thumbs the label around his bottle, the envelope pressed in his inner pocket prompting him to do away with jokes. He and Harvey might not talk regularly either, but today has banded them together in a way no other has before. They're orphans now, moving forward in life without their parents, but Lily's echo is still present, shining through the people who turned up to say goodbye and remembered by his and Harvye's actions. She'd wanted Harvey to be happy and when he'd seen Donna's smaller frame, the redhead's appearance had shocked him into taking Lily's concern seriously. The last thing he wants to do now is cause a rift, but he genuinely feels it's his place to say something. "I just wanted to check in, make sure Donna's doing okay?"

Harvey scrubs a hand down the side of his face, breathing out a tense sign. A week ago the question would have landed with a sting of accusation—like he'd felt talking to Lily, and he pushes through his guilt, determined not to react in the same way. "She's working through it… We both are."

The response is candid enough to propel a wave of relief, and Marcus sets his beer down, sliding out the letter he's been hoarding. "Good… because there's something mom wanted you to have."

Harvey glances at the crinkled paper, his mouth dipping in confusion. "What is it?"

"I don't know." He hands it over with a loose shrug. The object had been laying on Lily's drawing desk, his brother's name scrawled neatly across it, and he hadn't felt right intruding by opening it. But knowing his mother, he can hazard a guess at the letter's contents. She'd been worried she'd said the wrong thing last time Harvey called, and since they're reconciliation, she didn't like to leave things unsaid between them. "Mom seemed pretty convinced you and Donna would work everything out."

Harvey takes the envelope, trying to swallow the emotion trapped in his throat. He'd been coming to terms with how they'd left everything, knowing one slightly tense conversation doesn't outweigh all the good ones prior. But realizing she'd had more to say leaves him suddenly nervous, and he downs a sip of beer, moving his attention away from the unknown. "I came in here to see how you were doing," he defends, breathing in sharply through his nose.

Marcus plasters on a small smile, more carefree now that the air between them is lighter again. "We both know I'm better at this stuff."

Harvey moves to stand beside him, folding the paper into his pocket—not ready to face the final goodbye he's holding. Good or bad, whatever's inside is all he has left, and part of him feels guilty for stealing the words away from Marcus, but the man doesn't seem phased. Maybe because he'd spent more time with Lily, there weren't as many words left unsaid, the notion making him realize he has access to those missing years—all he has to do is ask. He'd repaired his relationship with Lily, but he hasn't put the same effort in with Marcus, and it's about time he started. "Maybe Donna and I could stay a few extra days, help out with the kids—if she's up for it."

Marcus is surprised by the offer, having assumed that his brother would need to go back for work, and he shoots his older sibling the side-eye. You didn't seriously just offer to babysit?"

Harvey winces, shaking his head with another sip of beer. "I said, help, get your hearing checked."

A chuckle of amusement rumbles in Marcus' throat. But honestly, he'd like for the pair to stick around. He was going to extend the offer himself, anyway, and tips the last of his drink back, sliding the bottle on the counter, and slapping his arms loosely around the slightly taller man. "The kids would love that."

Harvey returns the gesture, stealing his own comfort from the hold. He'll no doubt get his ass handed to him by Faye, but if there's one thing he's learnt recently, it's that work isn't the be all and end all.

Family is more important, and his are all here.

...

* * *

...

Harvey dumps his and Donna's bags on the floor, his muscles stiff from the plane ride. They'd had to fly back economy due to changing their flights last minute but staying the couple extra days had been worth it. Even though he's exhausted, and knows Donna must be feeling the same. She'd been going to bed early while he and Marcus caught up into the small hours, he'd still been conscious of her energy levels fluctuating. The funeral had taken a lot out of her, and he insists on ordering them food in while she takes a shower.

The fresh scent of jasmine and lavender tickles his senses shortly after their dinner arrives, and they make themselves comfortable on the couch rather than eating at the dining table. Donna pulls her feet up, picking at the noodle-box, and he tries not to worry that she's seemed disinterested in food since leaving behind Marcus' home-cooked meals. Maybe he's reading too much into the thought, but she seemed fine around his brother, and he can't help wondering if she was staging at least some of her enthusiasm. It wouldn't be the first time he's missed glaringly obvious signs, and he hasn't forgotten the words he'd callously hurtled when he'd been drunk and lashing out. He'd said she couldn't take care of herself, but that isn't true.

She's one of the strongest people he knows, and although he'd needed her more than ever over the past few days, he would never want her to think she has to prove anything. The thought rests uneasily in his stomach, making his own meal seem unappetizing, and he places the container down on the table with a small sigh.

The sound draws Donna's gaze up, and she knows it's stupid to ask how he's doing. Staying in Boston had been good for him, but it had locked them both in a bubble, and coming home, facing the reality of everything, has been playing on her mind, but she keeps the thoughts to herself, trying to stay positive for him. "It'll be okay."

"Yeah." He forces a small smile, his mouth curving limply around his hesitation. "Not hungry, either?" he asks, watching her place the food she's barely touched next to his own.

She shakes her head, leaning back into the leather cushions. She's too nervous to eat, surprised by how drained she feels. It hadn't occurred to her that there might be physical limitations to starting back at the firm full-time. She'd gotten used to pushing beyond her limits but the past few days have been a reminder of the toll working herself into the ground had taken. But she can read the concern in Harvey's gaze, and does her best to settle his worry. "I'm just tired… I'll finish it later."

She offers a smile, and he nods, but the assurance isn't the conversation starter he was searching for. He wants to ask if she's okay, but doesn't know how without sounding paranoid. He's been with her constantly since leaving New York, and she hasn't given him any indication there's something wrong. They feel solid, but he still can't shake the sense something is off.

"Hey—" she pulls herself forward, brushing his arm "—what's going on?"

"Nothing." He scrambles to find his footing, feeling her fingers run the length of his arm to tug him around, and he's teased by the smell of her shampoo, his hands falling around her waist when she kisses him softly.

Her lips will away the worry pent up in his muscles as he pulls her into his lap, the contact making her chest ache with how much she's missed him. They'd rarely left each other's sides but their touches had been light and supportive, subdued by grief. Nothing like the way he chases her tongue when she kisses him more deeply. His desire springs to life beneath her and it's the only part of his body that's strained, the rest of him relaxing and sinking back, and she wants to take things further. She wants to watch him come undone and let go, the need pooling in her core—only faltering when his palm skates the edge of her sweater. But she recovers quickly, batting his hand away and sliding off his lap, stroking him with a seductive smirk.

He swallows a groan, his eyes fluttering closed as she dips down closer to his waistband, but the voice in his head from a few minutes ago yields itself again. He can't ignore the fact she'd pulled away the second he'd moved to touch her, and he catches her wrist gently, stopping her from answering the throbbing in his groin. "Donna, wait."

She tilts her head, confusion mixing with a flash of uncertainty, scared she misread his needs. "I thought you wanted—"

"I do." He's quick to assure her, his body's reaction backing up the statement, but he's flooded by blurry memories of the last time they'd almost crossed the line. When he'd been drunk seeking comfort and had gotten so caught up in needing her, he hadn't realized what was happening. She'd been terrified, for reasons he still doesn't fully understand, but he wants more than to just be the recipient of her attention. He wants to be intimate with her, worship her, and he caresses his thumbs over her pulse-point, finally finding the words he's been looking for. "But I want you to want it as well."

She pulls free from his grasp, reaching down to cup him with a purr. He doesn't need to worry. The last time she hadn't been the one in control, but this is different. She feels safe taking command, and kisses him, her lips teasing a trail and blowing hotly against his ear. "I know exactly what I want."

Her voice is a low, a melodic whisper, and god help him—he must be paying for something in another life he hasn't atoned for, because instead of encouraging her, he sits up straighter, pulling back to make sure this is really what she wants. Her eyes gleam with the challenge, her mouth landing over his, and he groans into the kiss, his fingers automatically seeking more of her but the second they come into contact with skin, she diverts them again, and he stops, panting her name. "Donna… I can't—" he fumbles with the right thing to say "—I don't want to do this half-way."

"Since when?" she snaps, frustrated by his inability to take what she's comfortably giving. She's sure he's let half of the women in Manhattan go down on him without any complaint, and moisture pricks her gaze as she climbs off him.

"Since I met you." He latches his arm around her waist, seating her back down with the hope she'll listen. He's spent the majority of his adult life having meaningless sex, dissociating from his feelings because it was easier, but she's different. He's learning to put her needs above his own—a process that has evolved from over a decade of selfishness, but she's buried so deeply within his heart now, it physically hurts when he can't see a clear way to help her. He wishes he had the same intuition she does, but he doesn't. Whatever's wrong, he has to hear the problem from her, and he'll wait as long as it takes, but he's not going to let her think any of this is trivial to him. "You mean everything to me, Donna, and you keep telling me it's fine, but then you flinch whenever I touch you. Tell me, how is that okay?"

It isn't, she knows that, and the way his expression breaks with guilt fills her chest with panic. She was supposed to be distracting him, not lumping him with more concern, and her instinct is to turn and run, but she can't do that either, not when leaving would cause him to worry more. The only way out she can see is by facing up to the truth, and she sinks back on her thighs, dipping her gaze to where he still has a light hold around her waist. "It's not you," she says quietly, not wanting him to think for a second any of this is his fault. She trusts him completely but there's still a part of her scared she's going to disappoint him—that he'll regret straying from the bachelor lifestyle if she can't live up to the expectations they set the other time. "I'm not—the same, as I was the last time we…"

She swallows, colour flushing her cheeks, and it takes him a moment to grasp what she's talking about, his mouth parting slightly as he comes to terms with her insecurities. It seems unfathomable to him, because in his mind she's always been perfect, with the confidence to match, but the way she's refusing to even look at him drills straight through his chest. He's been an idiot. Firstly, for not realizing the problem sooner, and secondly because he hadn't given her a reason to challenge the line of thought.

"Donna…" He nudges her closer, sliding his hand beneath her chin until she finally gives in and focuses her attention on him. "There's never been a time I haven't wanted you, even when I couldn't admit that to myself. You're stunning and intelligent, you make me laugh… you're frustratingly stubborn, to the point it drives me crazy, but I love you. You're beautiful, and so long as you're healthy, that's all I care about.

A fierce truth surrenders the statement, and her lips curve through a watery smile. She'd been so scared of letting him down, she hadn't been able to see beyond anything else. Hadn't let the fact he loves her breach her fear, but she can feel the last of her walls crumbling as she releases his hand, her fingers shaking slightly as they skim the edge of her sweater. Her insecurities aren't going to disappear overnight, but she's tired of being bound by them, and she removes the article of clothing, trying to calm her racing heartbeat as she sits in front of his gaze.

He takes her in, marvelling at how breathtaking she is— smaller or not—and he moves slowly, skimming her arms to make certain she's definitely sure. A shy smile tugs at her mouth and he leans in, ghosting his lips against her skin with a breathy whisper. "You're perfect."

She shivers, arching towards him as he flutters kisses down along her neck, and she grips his biceps, dizzy beneath his gentle caresses. They move in sync, his body covering hers as she slides back, finding his mouth again. He takes his time sliding his fingers down, still making sure she's comfortable, and because he wants to take in every inch, show her there's no part unworthy or undeserving of his attention. He'd meant what he'd said. She's beautiful, each line and curve, even the edges that are sharper but filling out, because she's taking better care of herself. He loves all of her, completely, his lips trailing the path of his hand, landing in the valley of her breasts. She presses them up with a low moan and his heart hammers at how willing she is, without the fear of being judged holding her back. He hates she'd felt that way, not sure how he could've been so blind to what was troubling her, but she has nothing to be afraid of. No one has ever come close to making him feel the way he does now, like nothing else in the world matters.

He lavishes his tongue across her skin, places she's avoided looking at lately, but his devotion smothers her, stopping her from feeling self-conscious—only coming to her senses when he stalls at her waistband. Her eyes fall down to where he's poised, his thumbs stroking the synthetic material, and she bucks her hips urging him to keep going. He doesn't, but she quickly realizes why, and takes her lip between her teeth when he stretches up, ridding himself of his clothes—putting his body in the spotlight, not to show-off but to make himself vulnerable first, and her heart swells as he gives pause, still cautious of moving at a pace she's comfortable with. But she doesn't want to wait any longer. She wants him back on top of her, his lips fused to hers while he's driving inside her, and she nudges her leg impatiently, blushing when he smirks because he's been beyond patient, and sensitive, and caring—he's earned the right to be a little smug.

He drags her slacks and underwear off, and answers her silent need, caging her body as he finds her mouth again, and she lifts her hips, sucking in a gasp when his fingers meet the slick heat beneath between her legs with absent, teasing strokes. She knows she could cum just from the foreplay he's intending to deliver, and tugs at his wrist, chasing the same intimacy he'd sought earlier. He was right. What they have runs deeper than sex, and she pushes gently against his chest, her eyes clouding over as she finds his gaze.

He braces himself, holding above her with a sharp intake of air. "You okay?"

She nods, dragging her nails down and hooking her ankle behind his thigh. She's never been more okay. She just needed him to know as much without any shadow of a doubt. "Don't stop."

The whisper catches somewhere between a plea and a demand, and he lowers himself, sliding into her with a slow thrust that makes her pinch his skin, eliciting a groan from the back of his throat. He withdraws, pushing inside her again and there's a warning in his brain telling him to take things slowly that vanishes as her heel digs into his ass, urging him to move faster.

He shudders and she skims her palm along his jaw, screwing her eyes shut as she begs him with her hips—provoking the response she was looking for. He starts to let go of himself, providing the friction she needs and setting a pace that quickly dissolves into blissful chaos. His thumb falls clumsily over her clit and she only lasts a few more seconds before her muscles erupt in a frenzy of spasms, her thoughts disintegrating as he follows her over the edge with a guttural sound that fills her entire being. If she ever questioned his ability to see past the other time, the doubt is completely erased as he hovers above her, his hand brushing away the strands of hair plastered to her face.

"Donna…"

He doesn't need to say anything else, and she swallows, answering the question she's not sure there are even words for. "I know." The desire to vocalise her own emotions gives way to his touch, that's still determined to cherish every part of her, and she knows going back to work—whatever menial things she'd been afraid of, Harvey's unwavering faith is a tether to everything she's capable of accomplishing.

They're together now, in every sense of the word, and there's no more holding back.

* * *

**AN:** _I've been going back and re-writing a few of these chapters for fun, trying to put into practice everything Southsidesister (darvey_love) has taught me ❤️ Looking forward to tackling some new Darvey challenges, but this story is still keeping on keeping on :P_


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